<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Gentle Toughness by AGJ1990</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974039">Gentle Toughness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990'>AGJ1990</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:15:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John takes in a 12 year old foster child.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me.</strong>
</p><p>John was coming to learn, a little more and more each day, that when life was hard, you seemed to do everything you could to make it harder.</p><p>He'd gotten the call two days ago from an old friend who now headed CPS in Sioux Falls. There was a foster kid who needed a home. She was twelve years old, had been in foster care since she was five, and had just gotten kicked out of her twentieth home in seven years. Gil was at a loss as to what to do with the kid, and his thoughts had immediately fallen to his friend. John had resisted at first. It had been a long time since he cared for a kid, and though he'd never admit it, he was afraid to do it again. He was terrified he'd screw up again.</p><p>Because the last time he'd screwed up, life as he knew it had ended.</p><p>Fifteen years had passed since that last hunt. The one that had taken not just Sam, but Bobby from him too. The second that the hunt was over, John had thrown himself, body and soul, into drinking himself dead too. The only thing that had held him together was Dean. John honestly didn't know why Dean hadn't just left him. Left him to rot like John deserved. He certainly wouldn't blame Dean if he had.</p><p>At thirty-five, Dean's life still contained remnants of the damage left from hunting. Dean had a family now, a wife named Lisa and a son named Ben who was the apple of his grandfather's eye. John didn't know if this was his own wishful thinking, but Ben seemed to be his uncle Sam's doppelganger. In looks, Ben was nearly identical to Sam at age eight. He was amazingly smart, and had skipped an entire grade in school already. John laid all the praise and encouragement on Ben that he should've laid on Sam when Sam was…</p><p>John shook his head. Even fifteen years later, he still couldn't admit Sam's death. He knew Sam was gone, and that he wasn't coming back, but the d word escaped him. He wondered if his level of denial would amaze any psychiatrists who would somehow hear of it. As long as he didn't admit in his head that Sam was gone, he didn't have to deal with it. Bobby's death had been hard, but much easier to process than his son's.</p><p>John took one final look around the house. Gil had just called and said he was on the way and would be there in half an hour. The house was as clean as he could get it. His late wife, Mary, would've been proud. Bobby, who had left his house to John and the boys in the event of his death, would've likely grumbled that it was too clean to be comfortable in, but would, deep down, have appreciated his friend's gesture.</p><p><em>That's enough</em>, John thought to himself.<em> They'll be here in ten minutes.</em></p><p>John stepped outside and took a seat on the front porch swing. It had been installed before Ben's birth, a gift from Dean for his father when he noticed that it was getting hard for John to sit on the steps like he sometimes liked to do at night. It was one of, if not the, most thoughtful gifts John had ever been given, and he'd used it so much that it had already been repaired twice. It had also become a place for little Ben to sit and talk with his grandpa about things he didn't really want to tell his parents, such as when he was being bullied at school or when he was having trouble adjusting to always being the youngest kid in his class.</p><p>God, what he wouldn't have done to be able to have conversations like that with Sam when he was here.</p><p>But it was too late to dwell on all of that. John wondered what Sam would've thought about how his father's life had turned out. Would Sam have been angry that his father had finally dumped hunting to live the normal life that Sam so badly wanted? Would he have been jealous? Upset? Happy? John knew, deep down, that Sam had never been a spiteful boy, and would have been overjoyed when he figured that his father had finally found peace in his life.</p><p>If only.</p><p>Gil's car pulled into the driveway, and his old friend greeted him warmly. John had served with Gil in Vietnam, and the two of them had reconnected after Sam's death. Gil had even offered John a job as a social worker, thinking that John would have been good at investigating child abuse. It seemed that Gil's job never ended, and he desperately needed the help. He'd been gracious when John turned the offer down, but made it clear that the job was always open.</p><p>A girl stepped out of the car, holding onto a white duffel bag that seemed less than half full. John noticed immediately that she was glaring at him and wasn't taking her eyes off him. There was so much anger in this girl that she looked to be vibrating in it, even as she stood perfectly still. The girl was slight. At twelve years old, she stood no taller than five feet and John guessed that she was no more than seventy pounds. Who in the hell had been neglecting this kid so much?</p><p>"John, I'd like you to meet someone. Ronnie, come over here, sweetie."</p><p>Ronnie took her bag and threw it over her shoulder, marching over to Gil with much more force than necessary. John took note of her demeanor. <em>I have a lot of work on my hands</em>, he thought. This kid was fuming, and he'd only known her for approximately sixty seconds. Gil had said her stay would only be for two weeks. Suddenly, fourteen days seemed like an eternity.</p><p>"John Winchester, this is Veronica Wells. Ronnie, this is Mr. Winchester. You'll be staying with him for a few days."</p><p>"I know the drill by now." Ronnie snapped, and John was startled at the amount of venom in her voice. "You'll dump me here, find somebody else to let me crash at their place, and two months from now, you'll pick me up just to go through all this again."</p><p>John wanted so very, very badly to tell her to tone down the attitude, that she was a guest at his house and that attitude towards adults would not be tolerated. But Gil had dealt with her tantrums before, and he expertly placed a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>"You promised you'd give him a chance. Do it for me, please."</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>Biting his tongue so hard he could feel it aching, John stood up from the porch swing and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Veronica. You can call me John."</p><p>"My name is Ronnie."</p><p>"And that's about all the attitude I'm going to take from you, young lady. You're a guest in this house and I expect you to behave. That includes respecting all the adults around here. You got it?"</p><p>"Whatever. Can I go inside?"</p><p>"If you ask politely, absolutely."</p><p>Ronnie huffed again and gritted her teeth hard. "<em>May</em> I <em>please</em> go inside?"</p><p>"Sure. Your room's the first one upstairs and to the right. I'll be up in a minute."</p><p>"Don't bother. I don't have much unpacking. I never do."</p><p>Ronnie walked inside and John stared incredulously at his friend.</p><p>"I know. I know. I'm hoping a few days with you will knock off some of her rough edges."</p><p>"Rough edges?" John asked. "Gil, I feel like you're setting me up here."</p><p>"John, please. You don't know her history. If she doesn't stay with you, she'll have to go to a group home. Every time she goes, her stuff gets stolen or worse. Please, please do this for me. Just keep her safe for a few days and I'll be back when I find another family for her."</p><p>"I told you I'd do it, I'll do it. But damn, Gil."</p><p>"I know. Trust me, I get it. Just…do your best, okay? I have faith in you. You can do this."</p><p>"Fine. But you owe me. Big time."</p><p>Gil left and John walked inside. Ronnie had found her bedroom and was sitting on the bed glaring at the wall. Her bag laid unopened in front of her.</p><p>"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you wash up? Bathroom's right here."</p><p>"I'm not hungry." Ronnie snapped.</p><p>"And I didn't give you the option. You don't have to eat if you don't want to, but you will sit at the dinner table and be civil. Am I clear?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Yes, what?"</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose against the oncoming headache. "Ronnie, you're twelve years old…"</p><p>"Thirteen."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Are you deaf or something? I. Am. Thirteen."</p><p>"Gil said…"</p><p>"He forgot my birthday just like everyone else does every year."</p><p>John nodded, relieved to see an opening he didn't expect. "Happy birthday."</p><p>"Gee thanks." Ronnie said sarcastically. "Your sincerity is heartwarming."</p><p>"Look, tomorrow if toy want I'll take toy out for your birthday. Anywhere you want to go. But like I said, right now it's dinner time. Wash your hands and be downstairs in five minutes."</p><p>John turned and started to head downstairs. <em>I'm gonna strangle this kid. </em>Ronnie's muttering didn't help matters.</p><p>"Could at least say please…"</p><p>Taking one deep breath in and letting it out very slowly, John said in his best and most patient voice, "Please."</p><p>He wondered as he got to the kitchen if Ronnie had reacted the same way Sam and Dean would have-shocked their father could hear them. As he set out plates and silverware, he muttered to himself,</p><p>"This is gonna be a long two weeks."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: So I used my phone to finish typing the first chapter. As a result, the word ‘you’ was autocorrected to ‘toy’. I thought I had fixed this but apparently not :(. This is why I don’t type on phones too much. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I’ve gotten a couple of questions about this story privately. Here’s the general answers:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-I’m planning on this being a longish story, maybe 15-20 chapters or so. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-What happened to Bobby and Sam <em><span class="u">and </span></em>what happened to Ronnie will be revealed in pieces along the way. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-There are reasons that Ronnie is as angry as she is. As always, I won’t be graphic with my descriptions, but assume that there’s abuse in her background. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-Dean and his family will appear at some point. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-John is somewhat softer in this story than he’s normally portrayed, but I honestly believe that’s how he would’ve turned out if he lived longer. A lot of people tend to mellow out a little as they get older. Don’t get me wrong, he and Ronnie will still clash, but nothing over the top. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>That’s all I got so far. Hope everyone’s doing well and staying safe!</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Eight Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily had barely closed the door before Ronnie was in her arms. She gave the excited kindergartener a hug. The night had been long and frustrating, but now it was over and she could focus on what really mattered. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy, guess what?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What, baby?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily walked into the kitchen to prepare herself some breakfast. Her mother’s judgmental eyes wandered to her, but Lily ignored them. Ronnie revealed her news to her mother as if she was telling her she won the lottery. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t have to go to school today!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Surprised, Lily looked up from her plate of cold bacon and eggs. “What?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“The school called.” Lily’s mother Dolores explained. “One of the water pipes at her school broke and the hallway’s are flooded. She’ll be out today and probably tomorrow.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Isn’t that cool, Mommy? I get to spend all day with you!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily tried to hide the frustrated look on her face. As much as she looked forward to seeing Ronnie, she desperately needed some sleep. She’d worked all night, and she was about to collapse. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy? You okay?” Ronnie asked. She was scared. She’d thought Lily would be as happy to spend the day with her as she was. “You want to see me today, right?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily smiled tiredly. “Yes, baby. Of course I do. But can you do Mommy one favor?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy is really, really tired. Can you stay with grandma for two more hours and let me get a little sleep?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Then you promise we’ll spend the day together?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Cross my heart.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay, Mommy. I’ll do it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Good girl.” Lily said, kissing Ronnie’s cheek. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I will. Love you, Mommy.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Love you too, baby girl.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>As Ronnie ran upstairs, Lily reluctantly turned to her mother. She could feel the judgmental eyes baring down on her again, even though her mother was standing at the sink and washing dishes. Lily finished her plate and handed it to her mother, deciding to get the fight out of the way. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Go on and say it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn’t do any good, so why would I?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s unusually good of you, Mom. Thank you.” Lily said. “I’m going to get some sleep.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s tiring, huh? Doing your so called job…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“ENOUGH, MOM!” Lily suddenly shouted from the kitchen doorway. She had been heading upstairs and her tolerance of her mother’s attitude had reached its end. She turned on her heel and faced her mother to let out what she really wanted to say. “Stop it, okay. Just stop it. I know you hate what I do, but I cannot possibly convey to you how little I care.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Then maybe I’ll just stop watching your daughter for free…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I took you in after you gambled away every penny you had and got evicted from not one, not two, but three different places. You gambled away the money that Dad and grandma left me for college. I have not charged you one cent for rent. You are living in my house, which I bought and paid for with the job you so detest, and all I expect is for you to keep my daughter while I work. Now, if being a warm body while Ronnie sleeps and feeding her breakfast in the morning is too much for you, then I’ll work one more night a week and pay for a babysitter, and you can go back to trying to figure things out on your own. Now Mom, I love you. I truly, truly, do. But I have had it up to here with the disrespect. Stop it or leave. I mean it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine.” Dolores turned the water off and grabbed her bag off the kitchen table. “Guess I’ll leave.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily thought about trying to stop her mother but decided against it. Dolores would be back later that night when she didn’t have anywhere to sleep. Lily walked to the stairs, expecting to go up and straight to bed, but instead found Ronnie sitting on the top step and crying. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re supposed to be in your room.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie sniffed and wiped her face. “Sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily sighed and walked up to sit next to Ronnie. “What’re the waterworks for?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I hate it when you and Grandma fight. It’s scary.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” Lily said. She kissed Ronnie and pulled her into her lap. They sat that way for a few minutes, until Lily broke the silence with the question that worried her the most. “Is Grandma nice to you when I’m not here?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Really? She’s never mean to you?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You promise you’d tell me if she was?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I promise. Will grandma come back?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“She’ll be back tonight.” Lily promised. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay. What do I do while you sleep, though?” Ronnie asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I have an idea. Why don’t we lay on my bed and we’ll start a movie?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie smiled. “Okay.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Just don’t get upset if I fall asleep, okay? It doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you, it just means I’m really tired. Okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay, Mommy.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Maybe, just maybe,” Lily said, moving her fingers up and down Ronnie’s waist, making her giggle, “I’ll get lucky and someone here will take a nap with me, huh? What do you think?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Not me!” Ronnie squealed in delight, trying to sneak away from her mother.  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Once Ronnie calmed down, Lily smiled and stared at her for a moment. “I love you, Squirrel. You know that?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie smiled right back. “Love you too, Moose.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Ronnie carefully made her way to the kitchen. Her stomach was rumbling. She wondered why she was so stubborn sometimes. John seemed nice enough, if somewhat…stiff. She couldn’t find a better word to describe him. She supposed he was trying to intimidate her, but that was nearly impossible to do now.</p><p> </p><p>The fridge was nearly silent opening for her, and for that she was grateful. She’d lived in houses before where the fridge had given her away. She looked around and found a couple of Granny Smith apples, which were her favorite. She took them out and went to the drawers to find a knife.</p><p> </p><p>As usual, not only was she hungry, but the memories were swirling around in her head. The good ones were somehow worse than the bad ones. The bad ones were just a fact of life now. She’d gone through them, lived through them, and gotten past them. But the good memories did her no favors. They only served to remind her of what she was missing now. She just about had her first apple sliced when she nearly jumped out of her seat. The kitchen light had been turned on.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s two o’clock in the morning.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie fought back the urge to plead for mercy. The urge got easier to suppress the older she got. She didn’t look up, but she put down the knife and put one of the apple slices in her mouth. She focused on the tart taste of the apple, trying to keep her mind off the pit growing in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you hear me talking to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Ronnie answered snidely.</p><p> </p><p>“Well?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well what?” Ronnie asked, putting another apple slice in her mouth. “I didn’t hear a question.”</p><p> </p><p>John exhaled hard. “Why are you up this late?”</p><p> </p><p>“Technically it’s early.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s way too early to beat around the bush. Answer me.” John growled.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shook her head. She hated when foster parents beat around the bush like this. She’d broken a rule. She wished he’d stop torturing her.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, just get it over with, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get what over with?”</p><p> </p><p>“You told me to get in bed and I didn’t. I got up and stole food from you. Just do what you’re gonna do to me already so I can go back to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>John was at a total loss. Sure, he was a little annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night, but did Ronnie really think he’d punish her over having an apple late at night? What exactly had happened to this kid to make her this tense?</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, what exactly do you think I’ll do to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked up from the table, where she’d fixed her eyes, into John’s face. She’d expected him to be angry, but he wasn’t. He looked upset. <em>Who is this guy?</em>, Ronnie thought to herself.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. You’re not mad?”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed and took a seat at the table. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to deal with this. Did he even really need to deal with this? Should he just tell her good night and head back to bed, reminding her only not to stay up too late and to turn the lights off before she went to bed?</p><p>“Ronnie. Listen to me. If you’re hungry here, even if it’s the middle of the night, you can eat. If you’re thirsty, you can drink some water or milk. You don’t have to be hungry here, and you don’t have to sneak around to get food. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie still didn’t know if she should trust this guy, but she didn’t have much of a choice right now. She nodded and ate another apple slice.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wanted to know why you were up so late. Is it because you didn’t eat dinner?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, I’m going to ask you a question. And I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can try.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you had to steal food before?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie frowned. There was no way she was sharing that part of her past with this guy that she just met. “No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie…”</p><p> </p><p>“I said no. If you’re not gonna believe my answers don’t ask the question.” Ronnie snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you so angry with me?” John asked. “You and I have only known each other a few hours. Why won’t you give me a chance?”</p><p> </p><p>“Giving people chances generally doesn’t work out well for me.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Sam, buddy, please help me out here,</em> John found himself thinking. He’d often wondered when Sam was alive why they couldn’t talk about things and hash them out. Sam had exhibited, in the last couple of years of his life, the ability to connect with people when John couldn’t do it himself. It had helped them finish hunts and save lives, and John only wished that he’d thought to tell Sam that before he died.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie. I won’t hurt you. Is there anything I can do or say to convince you of that?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie took another apple slice and carefully thought over her answer. So far, John seemed to be a decent guy. Not very many men would be foster parents. It seemed like all the ones that were weren’t good guys. They were creeps. But John looked to be just as scared of her as she was of him. And, just like her, John wouldn’t admit it. She decided she had nothing to lose.</p><p> </p><p>“You already did.”</p><p> </p><p>“Already did?” John asked.</p><p>“Convince me.” Ronnie said. “By not freaking out about me getting up and eating. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>John nodded. “You’re welcome. Will you answer my question?”</p><p> </p><p>“Which one?”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you had to steal food before? Is that why you thought you had to do it now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look.” Ronnie said, and it was a fight to stop herself from snapping at him again. “I don’t want to get into a long conversation with you about my past. That’s a long, ugly story and I just don’t want to get into it. I’m only going to be here for two weeks. Let’s treat it like a long vacation and we’ll get along just fine. Capische?”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed inwardly. Ronnie seemed to be sincere when she told him he’d gotten her to trust him. He had to take what he could get. “I want you back in bed in a half hour. If you’re not done eating, you can take it to your bed with you. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna go back to bed. Unless you want me to stay up with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m thirteen. Not three.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>John fought a smile. Her response that time was less angry, bitter, railing against the world scared kid and more regular teenage sarcasm. Regular teenage sarcasm he could handle.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. If you’re sure. Good night, Ronnie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Night.”</p><p> </p><p>John stood and started back towards his bedroom. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he was thinking. He hadn’t been asleep anyway. There were nights where thoughts of Sam would come and invade his head, making sleep impossible until the early hours of the morning, when the sun would be coming back up anyway. He’d hoped that Ronnie would take his offer and ask him to stay. It would, he hoped at least, keep the guilt away for a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, John?”</p><p> </p><p>John stopped just short of the doorway to the kitchen. “Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, you could stay if you want.” Ronnie said. “If you’re hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>John didn’t fight the smile this time. “Sure, kiddo. Hand me the other apple.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: So, this chapter reveals Sam’s last moments. All I can say is this. The whole story will come out-don’t judge anything based just on this chapter. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>There were two days on the calendar that John tried to avoid. May 2<sup>nd</sup> and July 15<sup>th</sup>.</p><p> </p><p>When Sam and Dean had been younger, the only date on the calendar he felt could be pushed to the edge was November 2<sup>nd</sup>. While he still felt intense guilt and regret around that time, May 2<sup>nd</sup> and July 15<sup>th</sup> were a thousand times worse now.</p><p> </p><p>May 2<sup>nd</sup> was Sam’s birthday.</p><p> </p><p>July 15<sup>th</sup> was the day he died.</p><p> </p><p>And today was July 15<sup>th</sup>.</p><p> </p><p>The problem was, with Ronnie here, John couldn’t indulge his feelings the way he really wanted to. He’d never entirely stopped drinking, no matter what Dean thought. He simply saved up his drinking for those two days. But now he needed something to distract him.</p><p> </p><p>John knew it was a bad idea the moment he’d started to do it. Ronnie finally trusted him. Not completely, but her extreme anger from their first day together was gone. She was still a little snippy when he attempted to get close to her, ask her questions about her past, but John certainly understood the impulse to hide what happened to her. He wasn’t all that eager to discuss his either.</p><p> </p><p>The idea came when Ronnie asked if she could go to the movies. John was fine with it. Something told him that Ronnie was, deep down, a good kid. All she needed was a chance to prove it. So while she went to the movies, he started his search.</p><p> </p><p>Her belongings were sparse. She had a few days worth of clothes, a couple of books, and not much else. There was an envelope in which Ronnie kept her birth certificate. The only thing he really learned from that was Ronnie’s full name. Veronica Anne Wells. John suddenly felt guilty that he’d forgotten to take her out for her birthday like he promised. Reminding himself to keep that promise, he moved on. One of her books caught his attention. It was a large, five subject, spiral notebook, on which she’d written <em>notes about my life-my eyes only.</em></p><p> </p><p>John shook his head. No way would he look through that. He wasn’t sure he was prepared for what it contained. Just as he was about to put everything away and put it back the way he’d found it, something else caught his attention. At the bottom of her bag, tucked into the corner, was a pack of cigarettes.</p><p> </p><p><em>At least I can justify this now</em>, John thought.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled the cigarette pack out of the bag, went to the kitchen, threw it in the trash can, then changed the bag. He’d told Ronnie to do it when she got home, but he didn’t want to chance her seeing the cigarettes in there and pulling them out. With nothing else much to do, he sat and waited.</p><p> </p><p>There was a photo on the wall that got his mind working again. It had been taken at Sam’s eighth birthday party. The part was pitiful, but Dean had insisted on throwing it. Sam was wearing a million watt smile, with birthday cake all over his mouth, but that wasn’t what John could remember. His guilt wouldn’t let him. The only memory that came to mind was the last time he’d ever seen Sam.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fifteen Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Bobby was dead.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Bobby was dead, and Sam had been the one to shoot him in the head. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But that was the least of John’s concerns right now. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dean was tailgating the ambulance in the Impala. John had worried a couple of times that Dean would crash into them, causing them to have to slow down even further, and he wondered if he could somehow communicate telepathically with Dean and tell him to slow the hell down. But the second he thought it, John heard a sound he’d dreaded the entire ride so far. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The heart monitor went flat. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The beeping was shrill, but John’s own heart beating in his chest was louder. The paramedic in the back with him worked on resuscitating Sam, and John did his best to stay out of her way. He wanted to scream for Sam not to do this, not to die on him, to just open his eyes and come back to him. They could work everything out. Sam could do whatever he wanted. Quit hunting. Get an after school job and save up for college. Hell, if it guaranteed Sam’s survival, John would quit hunting and work to put Sam through school himself. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>All Sam had to do was wake up. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But all the wishes went unheeded. They pulled up to the hospital and Sam was taken inside, John holding a hand on the stretcher the entire way. He heard the paramedic that had been resuscitating Sam tell the doctors “fifteen year old male, self-inflicted gunshot would to the head, flatlined in transit” and wanted to scream that no. Sam didn’t shoot himself in the head. Sam didn’t do it. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But, in a way, he had. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>As the doctors worked to bring Sam back, Dean was in a state of panic beyond which John had ever seen. Even if (when, John reminded himself to think, when not if) Sam woke up, Dean would never be the same. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing would ever be the same again. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. John would never what the doctors had said to him and Dean when they told them Sam was dead. John somewhat remembered Dean letting out a scream, a primal one that came from deep inside, and running into the trauma room and attempting to bring Sam back himself. He remembered Dean having to be sedated, and having to tell Dean when he woke up that no, it hadn’t been the worst of dreams. Everything had happened just the way that Dean remembered it. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The poltergeist had possessed Sam. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The poltergeist had controlled Sam’s every move, making him lift his arm and shoot Bobby in the head. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dean had hit his brother with the piece of iron in his hand, knocking the poltergeist out and giving John an opening to shoot it with the salt gun. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>John shot it with the salt gun. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Then, in a moment that John would have sealed into his memory forever, Sam had raised his gun and shot himself. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Now, they had to figure out what to do. Where to go from there. They’d taken Sam’s body out of the hospital that night, burned it, taken Bobby’s body and done the same, then climbed in the Impala and just drove. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Where the hell did you go when your entire world had been shattered in the space of five seconds?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The front door closed and Ronnie walked inside. She found John sitting on the couch and staring into space. “Hey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Come sit down. You and me need to talk.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie felt herself immediately get disappointed. She knew it was all too good to be true. No way had she met a foster parent who was actually good to her. She couldn’t figure out what she’d done to earn the punishment she was sure was coming, and wondered if she’d ever find out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine standing.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t ask if you were fine standing. I told you to sit down. So sit down. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie sighed. Compliance was always the easiest way to move this along. She tried to stop the shiver, but it was impossible. She sat on the couch, as far away from John as she could get, and waited for whatever was coming to start.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’ve been pretty good to you.” John said. “Would you agree?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shrugged. “Yeah. So?”</p><p>“The answer is yes, sir.” John snapped, and felt a bit of self-satisfaction when Ronnie jumped and appeared rattled.</p><p> </p><p><em>This is stupid,</em> Ronnie thought, but answered anyway. “Yes, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then would you mind telling me why you’re smoking?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie’s nervousness turned immediately to anger. She knew right away what had happened. “You snooped through my stuff?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I did. And I found the pack of cigarettes in there. Now tell me what you’re doing smoking.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie jumped up and ran to her room. She pulled out her duffel bag and tore it apart looking for that cigarette pack. When she didn’t find it in there, her heart sank. It couldn’t be gone. It just couldn’t. She turned to run back to the living room to confront John only to find him standing in her doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“What did you do with it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I threw them away. Now answer my question.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie, surprising herself, kept her rage in check. She was ready to take John apart piece by piece. She knew what he thought, and she didn’t care. She had to get that cigarette pack back.</p><p> </p><p>“YOU WHAT? TELL ME YOU DIDN’T, WHERE ARE THEY?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t yell at me, young lady. You’re on dangerous ground here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you open them?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” John asked, thrown by the unexpected question.</p><p> </p><p>“Here we go with this deaf crap again. Did you OPEN them?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. Why would I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because there weren’t cigarettes in there, you asshole. I’ve never smoked in my life!” Ronnie shouted. “They belonged to my mom. I kept the only picture I have of her in there. Now where are they?”</p><p> </p><p>John’s heart sank. He felt sick to his stomach. He was more than willing to go dumpster diving to get them back out. With the way Ronnie was reacting, he could tell she wasn’t lying.</p><p> </p><p>But the garbage truck had come by just moments before.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, honey. It’s gone. The garbage truck came just a few minutes ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie felt her eyes fill with hot tears. Her mother had been dead eight years. That cigarette pack had been the only thing she had to survive all twenty plus moves. Now it was gone. Her mom was gone all over again.</p><p> </p><p>“Get out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, I’m sorry…”</p><p> </p><p>“I DON’T CARE! I SAID GET OUT!” Ronnie took her pillow off her bed and chucked it at the door. “I was so stupid! I thought I could trust you!”</p><p> </p><p>“You can…”</p><p> </p><p>“I SAID GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!”</p><p> </p><p>Defeated, John closed the door and listened to Ronnie jump on her bed and start sobbing. He’d screwed up big time before, but somehow this felt like one of the worst. How in the hell was he going to fix this?</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, having a drink didn’t seem like a bad idea.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: So there’s two big things going on in this chapter. The second half is the continuing argument from what John did in the last chapter. But in the first part, what ultimately happened to Ronnie’s mother is revealed in a flashback. Warning-she’s been murdered. The scene described below has Ronnie finding her mother’s body, and her mother isn’t dead yet. Lily tries to get Ronnie to leave the house, but Ronnie doesn’t leave before the murderer comes back. The next couple (or maybe three) chapters will reveal a lot, but not all, of the information about what happened to Lily and Sam and Bobby. This is only the fourth chapter, but I’m still planning on the story being between 15-20 chapters at least. There’s a lot of unpacking I’m planning to do. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Because of the murder scene, even though I don't explicitly show anything happening, I changed the rating of the story to Teen. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Eight Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie hated taking naps. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She always woke up feeling funny. Her head didn’t feel right and she still felt sleepy. It always passed after a little while, but it still felt weird. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It took Ronnie a minute to realize that something was wrong. Really wrong. When she and Mommy laid down earlier, it had been daylight. Now, it was night and it was dark. Real dark. Ronnie looked at the clock next to the bed. It said 11:00.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie’s bedtime was 9:00. Had she slept all day?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>If she had slept all day, where was Mommy? Where was Grandma? She was still in Mommy’s bed, so she didn’t think she’d been moved anywhere. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Was Mommy supposed to work tonight? Ronnie didn’t think so.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When Lily didn’t answer, Ronnie climbed down off the bed. She felt her legs get wet and she started crying. She’d wet her pants. Grandma was gonna be so mad. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily didn’t answer again, so Ronnie just went down to her room, put her wet pants and underwear in her clothes hamper, and put on a new pair of clean pajama pants. Lily would want her to have a bath before she went to bed for good.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But where was Lily?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie walked through the upstairs looking for her mommy or her grandma. She couldn’t find either of them, and she was starting to get scared. Really scared. Was she all by herself?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>No. She couldn’t be. Mommy and Grandma wouldn’t leave her. Would they?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie walked downstairs, calling her Mommy all over again. She heard someone moving around in the living room and felt better. Lily had just woken up and gone downstairs so she wouldn’t wake up Ronnie. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie ran over to her Mommy before she realized why Lily was on the floor. She was hurt. She was hurt bad. There was blood everywhere, especially right under Lily’s stomach. Lily was moving a little, trying to sit up, but she couldn’t do it. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy! Mommy, what happened?” Ronnie asked. She tried to pull Lily up, help her sit against the coffee table in the living room, but it didn’t work. Ronnie was just too weak. “Mommy, I can’t pull you up.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie?” Lily woke up suddenly at the sound of Ronnie’s voice. “Ronnie, you’re okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, Mommy, I’m okay.” Ronnie said. “I just slept for a really long time.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily stifled a scream. How was it possible she was still alive and in this much pain? But at least one fear wasn’t true. Ronnie was alive. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie, listen to me.” Lily said, gargling. She could taste blood in her mouth. “Have you seen Grandma?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No. I don’t think she’s here.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Good. Listen to me. I need you to do exactly as Mommy tells you to do, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You need the phone to call the medics?” Ronnie asked. “I can do it. I know our address and everything.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No. No, baby, listen. I need you to go next door to Mrs. Morris’ house. Okay? Knock on the door until she lets you in. Call the paramedics from there. But right now I need you to get out of this house. And whatever you do, do not talk to Grandma.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The front door opened and Dolores stood there, shaking her head at her daughter’s instruction. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Lily.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mom, please. Your problem’s with me. Just let Ronnie go.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Grandma?” Ronnie asked. “Did you do this? Did you hurt Mommy?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No, Ronnie. I didn’t.” Dolores said. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her voice was as normal as she always talked, but Ronnie knew something was wrong. Very wrong. Why hadn’t her Grandma been in the house before?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie, go back to bed.” Dolores said. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy said to go next door.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dolores’ face suddenly changed. She was furious. Ronnie tried to get away, but her grandmother was faster. She grabbed Ronnie’s arm, pulled her to her, and suddenly hit her in the face with an open hand. Ronnie screamed and tried to get away, only for Dolores to strike her again. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie, stop it. Stop it and stop it now. Listen to me. This is nothing but a bad dream, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie stopped moving and trying to get away. She took another look at her Mommy and back to her Grandma. “It’s a bad dream?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s it, honey. Just a bad dream. I want you to go upstairs and go back to bed. When you wake up in the morning, everything will be okay.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy won’t be hurt anymore?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No, baby. Your Mommy’s fine. Just get up to your room.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie didn’t know what to do, but she decided Grandma had to be right. Everything was just too strange to be real. It had to be a dream.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay, Grandma.” Ronnie said. “I’ll go.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Good girl, honey. Good girl.” Dolores said. She kissed Ronnie’s cheek and sent her back upstairs. “I’ll come tuck you in.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily let out a strangled cry. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hush, Lily. It’s time for Ronnie go to bed.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie went back up to her room, knowing things would be better in the morning. She heard a sound from the living room, a loud kind of popping sound, and she decided to hide in her closet just in case. She heard her Grandma calling her, but didn’t answer. She woke the next morning to the nice policeman telling her that she needed to go to the hospital to be looked at by a doctor. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie was amazed at how stupid she could be sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>She’d let her guard down and been hurt. Again. Every time she got close, to anyone, they let her down and she got hurt. She’d said it before, but this time she meant it.</p><p> </p><p>She was done getting close to anyone.</p><p> </p><p>Another bad memory was floating on the surface. In some ways, it was the worst one of all. It was one of her first memories, one of the clearest she had of her mother. Over time, the picture she had of her mother in her head had faded to oblivion. Now she didn’t even have the crumpled paper photograph anymore.</p><p> </p><p>She heard John outside on the phone with someone, and she didn’t say anything when he knocked on the door and told her he was going to town. He asked if she wanted to go with him, and her only response was to tell him to go away again. When she heard the front door close, she pulled out the journal she kept in her duffel bag and a pen. She made a note of the day and time, how old she was, and wrote two simple sentences.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>John threw Mommy away. He’s just as bad as everyone else. </em>
</p><p>Ronnie skimmed through the other entries in her journal to see if she had recorded anything else that hurt as much as this did. She wrote in the journal because when something bad happened to her, writing it out was a way to detach herself from it. In a way, it didn’t hurt anymore because it wasn’t running through her head and making her wonder what she did to deserve whatever she got. The entries were familiar looking, but it was as if they’d happened to someone else.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Bill told me I was stupid because I failed a math test. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Kelly told me to stop being a baby when I threw up.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Allison paddled me for getting sick and having to come home early from school. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jack spanked me with a belt for spilling milk on the table. I can’t eat any more dinner for the rest of the week, and he’s going to spank me again tomorrow night.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Nope. None of that even compared to this.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie checked the clock. It had been over an hour since John threw her mother’s photograph in the garbage. She supposed he would come home and try to forget about the entire thing.</p><p> </p><p>Fine. He didn’t want her either. Just like everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie left the bedroom and went to the porch. She sat in the swing she’d noticed John in the first day she’d gotten there. She sat there and stared out into space, trying to conjure up some good memories of her mother. Not many were forthcoming. Her mother had, for the last five or six years, seemed like a wisp of smoke that was just too far away to put her hands on.</p><p> </p><p>And now John had come and blown her away.</p><p> </p><p>Before she could think of anything else, John’s truck pulled back into the driveway. He parked and got out and Ronnie never moved. She wouldn’t look at him again. Later that night, after he went to sleep, Ronnie decided she was going to run away. Run away and never look back, since she didn’t have anything to look back at. John climbed up onto the porch and walked over to her. He pulled something out of his pocket and extended it to her.</p><p> </p><p>“This is for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want…”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie started to say <em>anything from you</em>, until she realized what John was holding in his hand. It was the cigarette packet, fully intact. Ronnie took it from him gently and opened it up. The picture was still there. She was cried out, but she looked at John with wet eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“How?”</p><p> </p><p>“I figured if the trash had just gotten sent to the dump, they wouldn’t have crushed it yet.” John explained. I figured if I went and said I threw something away that meant a lot to my daughter, they’d let me look for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You went dumpster diving for me?” Ronnie asked. “Is that why you smell like garbage?”</p><p> </p><p>John smiled. “Yeah. The pack got a little bent at the bottom, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay.” Ronnie said. She pulled the photo out and stared at it. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome. I’m really sorry, honey. I should’ve just asked you about it, not jumped to conclusions like I did.”</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t have been snooping through my stuff anyway.” Ronnie growled. “If you’d just asked I would’ve showed it to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right.” John said. “You haven’t given me any reason not to trust you. I’m sorry for that too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it because I’m a foster kid? Is that it? You look at me and think, oh, she’s trouble, just ‘cause I’m in the system?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe a little, yes.” John admitted honestly. “But I was wrong, sweetie.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shrugged. She was too tired to keep up the charade of being angry right now. “I’m used to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Used to what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Being treated like I’m a bad kid.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“You are not a bad kid. You’ve just been handed a rotten life.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie scoffed. “You can say that again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, I just want to get to know you, sweetie.” John tried again. “I want to be friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why? We’re just gonna be apart in a week.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just because you move to another house doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“No thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed. He was desperate. “What if I told you something about me?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie finally stopped looking at the picture and up at John. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I told you about me?” John offered. “Would you open up a little then?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie was intrigued by the offer. No adult in her life, except maybe Gil, had ever really offered her an <em>option</em> for something like this. Besides, she realized, if she let him talk first, she could figure out how to filter out the real bad stuff and still keep it to herself while she figured out what to tell him.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Deal.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Can I sit with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Only if you get a shower first.” Ronnie said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you smelled like hot garbage.”</p><p> </p><p>John laughed. “Okay. I’ll be back.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie waited patiently on the porch, relieved to have her photograph back. The world felt somewhat back to normal now. John came out and sat next to her.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I’m gonna tell you the story of the day my son died. But there’s something you need to know first.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Ronnie asked.</p><p> </p><p>John took a breath and waited before answering. He’d thought about it in the shower, and he’d decided that Ronnie was old enough and mature enough to know the truth. He knew that if Sam had been around, he would’ve stopped his father any way he knew how. He would be able to find some way to connect with Ronnie that didn’t involve telling her what he was about to tell her. He’d thought about calling Dean, but he, Lisa, and Ben were on a vacation that the couple had been saving up for for months and wouldn’t be back for another three days. But, he reasoned, with everything the kid had already been through, it clearly wouldn’t hurt.</p><p> </p><p>“You might find this hard to believe, but I need to know if you trust me.” When Ronnie nodded, John told her the truth. “Monsters are real.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: Warning-Sam and Bobby’s actual deaths are written out in this chapter. Since the scene where Ronnie’s mother was killed has already been a flashback, I just wrote it out as a conversation between her and John. Basically, they’re telling each other their stories in this chapter, so it’s very angsty and emotional. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I got a review asking what exactly killed Ronnie’s mother. That is revealed explicitly in this chapter when Ronnie’s telling John her story, though I implied it very, very heavily in the last chapter. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I promise, though, that this is a long way from being finished. I have a plan for Ronnie to meet Dean in the next chapter, and some other chapters that I shall not mention here for fear of spoilers. Hang around!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa.”</p><p> </p><p>John smiled sadly. He gave Ronnie a few moments to digest what he’d just told her. This, for him, was the test of whether or not any sort of long-term relationship with Ronnie would be sustainable. When John had revealed to her his ultimate truth, that monsters were real and existed in the world, Ronnie had simply turned away from him and said nothing. “Whoa” had been her only response so far.</p><p> </p><p>“So do you think I’m crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked up at John and took a breath before answering. “No. I don’t. I don’t know <em>why</em> I don’t think you’re crazy, but I don’t think you’re crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Really.” Ronnie said. “So go on with whatever you were about to tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed. “Well, Sam had been telling me all along he had a bad feeling about the hunt…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fifteen Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“We can’t do this, Dad. We can’t go after this thing.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>John rubbed the bridge of his nose to stop the headache from coming. “Sam, enough. We’re going after this poltergeist, and that’s all there is to it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“But Dad, this being a poltergeist just doesn’t fit all the information we have…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“ENOUGH!” John slammed his hand on the table in front of him and turned to Sam. “Two miles. Now.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Dad…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Three. Keep talking, I keep adding distance and taking away time.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Why won’t you just listen?” Sam asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Five miles. You want to go for ten?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sam finally slumped his shoulders and shook his head. He headed out the door and closed it behind him. He didn’t slam it, telling John that he was more upset that he thought his point hadn’t been made than he was upset at this father. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>John understood Sam’s point. He really did get it. While, on the surface, this hunt seemed like a poltergeist, there were also things about it that didn’t quite fit a poltergeist. While poltergeists were known to possess people on occasion, this one seemed to possess every single person who had lived for any amount of time in the house. The people who had been possessed had all gone on to commit some sort of crime, the most common one being murder. In the case that had caused John to take the hunt, a seemingly loving mother had killed her triplet girls for no apparent reason, then turned the gun on herself. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>John did get why Sam thought they needed to do more research before going into the hunt. But the pictures of the three dead six-year-old little girls, holding each other’s hands, was haunting him. The bastard that did it, whatever it might be, needed to be disposed of. There came a point in every hunt where the research had to be put away and action taken. John, being the leader, decided when that point had come. The sooner Sam accepted that, the happier everyone would be. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sam came back later that night, and as usual, nothing was said. Sam went straight to bed, and for that, John was grateful. The fact that Sam was actually taking this hunt seriously, like John always tried to force him to do, did not escape his attention. John wished, again, that he could find some way to communicate with Sam, convince him that his contributions were valued, even if they weren’t always followed. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>He ignored the little nagging voice in his head that told him the real truth. Sam’s contributions were never followed, and with the way John treated Sam, it was no wonder the boy didn’t feel as if he was valued. John also knew that if Dean had made the recommendation to wait, John probably would have listened. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>After the hunt, he’d have to fix that. Find a simple hunt, let Sam take the full lead on it, give him back some of the confidence he was losing by the day. He went to Dean and asked what he thought. Dean was fully behind the idea, and John had his plan in motion. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>They just had to get through this hunt first. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The next day, things seemed to be going well. Bobby had come to join them, and John could tell Sam had tried to get Bobby to agree with him, but apparently Bobby thought they needed to go after the poltergeist too. While Sam was fuming, he stayed focused. They were at the house and while they hadn’t found the poltergeist yet, everyone was in one piece. John was just about to call it a day when the world as he knew it ended. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sam stood in the entrance to the living room, staring at his father and brother. There was a blank look on his face that took a moment for John to recognize. When he did recognize it, he stopped and his heart filled with dread. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Sammy…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, I think you know what’s going on. Don’t you there, Dad?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Look, whatever you are, just don’t hurt Sammy.” John said. “We can talk, and you can even stay inside Sammy if you need to to do that. Just don’t hurt him, please.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I am so sick of everyone coming into <strong>my</strong> house and telling me what to do.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay. Okay, then we’ll leave. Just get out of Sam and we’ll be on our way…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No. No, I don’t think so. See, I think I’ll try something else here.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The poltergeist reached out an arm and Bobby was suddenly thrown up against the wall. He struggled and flailed against the hold on him, but the more he struggled, the tighter the invisible bonds became. Time seemed to slow down, but John would discover later that only a few seconds actually passed. The poltergeist used his free hand to reach into Sam’s pocket, pull out the gun there, and shoot Bobby in the head. Bobby dropped to the ground like a stone. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dean screamed and dove for Bobby. He was checking Bobby’s wounds, begging him to wake up and stay with them, but Bobby was gone. John looked to Sam and what he found shook him to the core. It was in that moment that John kept the biggest secret from Dean that he ever kept. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Twelve hours later, eleven hours after Sam was pronounced dead, John would comfort Dean by telling him that Sam had been possessed when he shot himself. It would become a lie that he’d believe himself, accepting what little comfort it provided. But Sam wasn’t possessed. John could see it in his face. He’d processed what had just happened. He had shot and killed Bobby. John wanted to tell Sam it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault, and that he needed to help him and Dean. He never got the chance. Sam just shook his head, distraught and heartbroken, looked at his father, and pointed the gun at himself. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Wow.” Ronnie whispered.</p><p> </p><p>John nodded. It was the first time he had admitted the entire story to anyone. He’d always known, deep down, that Sam had known what he was doing when he shot himself. In some ways, he couldn’t blame Sam. If it had been John to pull the trigger and kill Bobby, he doubted he could have lived with it either. But speculation like that was pointless.</p><p> </p><p>Sam’s death, as well as Bobby’s, had been entirely John’s fault.</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>John looked at Ronnie for the first time since starting his story.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill either of them. That ghost did.”</p><p> </p><p>John smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it was my fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. It wasn’t. Trust me, I know something about blame. It wasn’t your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>John frowned. Was Ronnie finally about to tell him what happened with her mom? “What does that mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, please. I just told you…”</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t a damn game of truth or dare!” Ronnie yelled, the first hints of that anger John had seen in her first few days living with him coming back. “I’m not gonna tell you all about myself just because you opened up to me a little.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Okay, you don’t have to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just trust me, okay? You didn’t kill Sam. Or Bobby. It wasn’t your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you think your mom’s death was your fault?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because it was and that’s all there is to it.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Honey, you were five years old when your mother died.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t matter, okay!?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, it does. Please tell me what happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. You’ll hate me and you’ll kick me out.” Ronnie said. “Everyone else does.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t.” John said. “I promise you I won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have to leave in a week anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“What if you didn’t?” John asked, surprising even himself.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I talked to Gil about getting licensed? You could stay here for longer than the week.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie’s mouth dropped open. “You’d do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I would.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie sighed. Her heart was starting to hurt thinking about it again. But if he insisted….</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Long story short, my grandma lived with me and my mom. They got into a fight one day. Grandma drugged me and I fell asleep on Mom’s bed. I woke up a few hours later and found my mom in the living room.”</p><p> </p><p>“What was she doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“She was bleeding. Grandma had stabbed her and left the house.”</p><p> </p><p>John was shocked. Gil hadn’t mentioned any of this before he’d taken Ronnie in. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“She came back after I found Mommy. Mommy had tried to make go next door with the neighbors and call 911, but Grandma stopped me. She told me it was just a bad dream and to go back to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>“I went upstairs and hid in the closet. I heard a loud noise and I didn’t know what it was at first. Not until the police came and picked me up the next morning.”</p><p> </p><p>John knew what the ‘loud noise’ that Ronnie mentioned was, but something told him that Ronnie needed to admit it to herself.</p><p> </p><p>“What was it?” he asked gently. “The loud noise.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed against a painful lump that had sprung to her throat. Why was she telling John this? She had never told anyone the full story of what happened that night. As far as she knew, the only people who were aware of the full story were the police, Gil, and the judge who had sent her Grandma to the mental hospital when Dolores admitted what she’d done in killing ‘that slut that called herself my daughter’.  But she felt something with John she’d not felt since her mother died. She felt at peace with him. She felt safe. She didn’t feel the need to blanket her responses in any sarcasm or anger.</p><p> </p><p>She felt cared about. She didn’t know, quite yet, whether or not to call it loved, but she knew, beyond any doubt, that John genuinely cared for her.</p><p> </p><p>“You swear you’ll talk to Gil about me staying with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I swear.” John promised. “I’ll call him right now if that’s what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie nodded, and despite the dread she felt that simply wouldn’t go away as she told her story, she finished her story. “Grandma shot her. That was the loud noise I heard.”</p><p> </p><p>John said nothing for a moment, fighting to get a clamp on his rage. He wanted to kill this evil bitch for killing not just Ronnie’s mother, but her own daughter. He’d dealt with nasty sons of bitches before, but this one took the lead. He wondered briefly if Ronnie’s grandmother had perhaps been possessed when she killed her daughter, but John ruled out that possibility. Ronnie had lived in Sioux Falls all her life. If her grandmother had been possessed, John would have heard about it. At some point during his thinking process, Ronnie had leaned over and started to cry in her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey. What’re you thinking?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s all my fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Your mother?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I shouldn’t have gone back to bed. I should’ve run out the door like Mommy said. If I had she might be alive right now. I’m as bad as some of the things you hunted…”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, look at me. Sit up and really look at me.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked up as best she could through her tear-soaked face.</p><p> </p><p>“I have seen evil things. Truly evil things and truly evil people. You are <em>not </em>as bad as any of things I hunted. You were five years old…” Ronnie opened her mouth to protest that her age didn’t matter, but John shook his head and put a gentle finger to her mouth to stop her talking. “You were five years old. You trusted an adult in your life that you had every reason to trust. The only person, the <em>only one</em> to hold any blame for what happened to your mother, is your grandmother. The buck stops with her. You got it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. Thank you for telling me. I know that was hard.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for telling me about Sam.” Ronnie responded. “I know you said that you and he used to fight a lot. I think he’d be proud of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope so, sweetheart.” John said. “I hope so. Why don’t we go call Gil and see what he says?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was official. John Winchester was a foster parent.</p><p> </p><p>As it turned out, he was already well on his way to meeting the requirements. He was financially stable, had never been convicted of a crime, and since Gil was at John’s house multiple times a week checking on Ronnie, the home study was a formality. Dean and Lisa had gotten home from their vacation the night before. John broke the news to them about Ronnie, and the two of them, along with Ben, were coming for dinner that night.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you.” John said that morning. Ronnie had been unnaturally quiet that day. “What’s bugging you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing at all? You’re really quiet.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked up from her cereal bowl, which had been empty for the last ten minutes. “I don’t do so good meeting families.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean’s coming for dinner, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Are you worried about meeting them tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>John knew right away something was wrong. Ronnie was whispering, turning away from him and towards the wall. There was a story behind the way she was feeling now, and he debated whether or not to bring it up. Talking seemed to help her, but he still felt awkward trying to initiate a conversation with her that went deeper than what to have for dinner that night.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, sweetie. Seriously. Dean’s excited to meet you, and you’ll love Ben and Lisa.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Really.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t you say Dean loves pie?”</p><p> </p><p>John chuckled. “That’s the understatement of the century.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know how to make it. Will you help me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetie, you don’t have to do anything to impress Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I just…I want to. But you don’t have some of the stuff here to make them. Can we go to the market and do it? We can do it together.”</p><p> </p><p>John smiled. “Sure. That sounds like fun. Clean up your breakfast and get dressed.”</p><p> </p><p>Six hours later, as Ronnie was pulling out the last of three pies out of the oven and making sure the pasta she’d made was just right, the front doorbell rang. Less than two seconds later, the door opened and Ronnie heard the voice of a little boy practically shrieking,</p><p> </p><p>“GRANDPA!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, kiddo. I missed you. How was vacation?”</p><p> </p><p>“It was so cool!”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie watched the family from the kitchen. Ben was dramatically waving his arms and making it next to impossible for his mother to take his jacket off. John helped her, handing Lisa the jacket to hang next to the door while Ben talked the entire time. John kissed Lisa’s cheek and greeted Dean, who simply nodded at his dad.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you had fun, buddy. You can tell me more about it during dinner, okay? Right now, I want you to meet someone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Ben said. He then noticed Ronnie standing in the doorway looking at all of them. “Hi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” Ronnie answered quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, sweetie, it’s okay.” John urged her gently.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie walked over and felt the eyes all over her. While Dean and Lisa seemed friendly enough, she was used to being scrutinized by strangers. John put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, trying to encourage her.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, Lisa, this is Ronnie. Ronnie, this is Dean, my son, Lisa, his wife, and Ben, their son.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, everybody.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Ronnie. It’s nice to meet you.” Lisa said with a big smile.</p><p> </p><p><em>But does she mean it?</em> Ronnie couldn’t help but think. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“How you doing?” Dean asked, still friendly but slightly more standoffish than Lisa.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Ronnie said nervously. Dean was a little more intimidating than Ronnie anticipated.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, why don’t you show Dean what you made for dessert?”</p><p>“Okay. Sure. It’s right in here…” <br/><br/></p><p>Dean’s eyes suddenly grew wide. “You made pie?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Your dad said you really liked it…”</p><p> </p><p>Lisa was laughing heartily at Dean’s reaction. “You just made a new best friend, Ronnie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, stop drooling. Dinner first.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, you need help with anything, honey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, can you help me set the table? I got so busy cooking I forgot.” Ronnie said apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>John didn’t miss the apologetic tone. “It’s alright, Ronnie.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d love to help you, sweetheart.” Lisa said. “Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>Dinner went well. Even the picky eater Ben lapped up Ronnie’s pasta and begged for seconds. By the end of the meal, Ronnie even found herself smiling and her nervousness gone.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don’t know about anybody else, but I am ready for that pie.” Dean said with a hungry grin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get it.” Ronnie said. “Ben, you wanna help me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure!” Ben helped bring the three pie pans from the kitchen to the table. “These look good!”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, what is it, honey?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie blushed slightly. “I don’t remember which one’s which.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, that just means more taste testing for me!” Dean said enthusiastically. “Let’s get this party started.”</p><p> </p><p>Two hours later, as a sleeping Ben was being tucked into his bed that was kept at John’s house, Ronnie was in the living room still talking with Dean and Lisa. She was surprised how comfortable she now felt with them. They were close to, but not quite yet, family.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me go get Ben.” Dean said.</p><p> </p><p>“You will do no such thing.” John insisted. “He’s out like a light.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure, John?” Lisa asked.</p><p>“Absolutely. You guys can stay too if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a night to ourselves…” Dean said with a mischievous grin.</p><p> </p><p>Lisa laughed. “Only if it’s okay with your father <em>and </em>Ronnie. She just met Ben, it might be weird to have him spend the night…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay with me.” Ronnie said. “Really.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure? It’s okay to say no until you two get to know each other better.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. It’s really okay. Ben’s a great kid. I like him a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>Lisa nodded. “Okay. We’ll come back in the morning before he wakes up…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, come on! Ben wakes up with the sun!” Dean protested.</p><p> </p><p>“You guys can sleep in. If Ben wakes up before you get here, I’ll keep an eye on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thank you, honey. That’ll help us a lot. Ben wore us out on the trip.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome.” Ronnie said. “I should wash the dishes…”</p><p> </p><p>“No. You won’t. You cooked all day, I’ll clean up.” John answered. “You stay here and relax a little. Dean, you come help me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, come on, Dad.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will come on. With you to the kitchen. Get a move on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?” Ronnie asked. “Alone?”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone seemed surprised, but Dean shrugged. “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“John, I’ll come help you.” Lisa said.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>John and Lisa headed towards the kitchen, and Dean was left with an awkward Ronnie, who was shifting her feet from side to side. As comfortable as everything seemed to be, there was still one outstanding question on her mind. Now that she was actually alone with him, the question that had been burning in her mind just didn’t seem to want to come out.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s on your mind?” Dean asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, I have to ask.” Ronnie said, clearing her throat and gathering her courage. “Are you really okay with me being here?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean that John’s your dad. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to take him away from you or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean, confused, took a moment to wonder exactly what Ronnie had been through to make her worry about that. “Kiddo, why would you ask that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just…” Ronnie sighed, the fear building up to a climax inside of her. She was so used to rejection that she felt she had to make sure it wasn’t coming. “I just need to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen to me. I haven’t seen my dad smile so much in years. I’m good with it. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie exhaled in relief. She could tell Dean was being sincere. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about that. Promise?”</p><p> </p><p>“Promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lisa was right about Ben staying. Thank you for that.” Dean said. A moment passed as he wondered whether to say what else was on his mind. “You haven’t had much of a family before, have you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie felt the moisture creep into her eyes and turned away.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me any specifics. But I get it. You’re still getting used to having a family. But we’re your family. Not just Dad, but me, and Lisa, and Ben too. You need something, let us know. Got it?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank <em>you</em> for that amazing pie. Now that I know you can cook, you can definitely stay.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie laughed. “You’re welcome.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t we step outside so we don’t get roped into helping with the dishes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. I wanted to say something else first. Your dad told me about Sam. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean squirmed a bit. He hadn’t talked about Sam in years. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“I had a brother once too.”</p><p> </p><p>“You did?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Ronnie said. “My mom was with this guy for a while. They had a baby boy when I was four.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where is he?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed hard. “He died. When he was a baby. Mom found him in his crib and he wasn’t breathing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow. I’m sorry, kid. What was his name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Caleb.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think Caleb would be real proud of you.” Dean said.</p><p> </p><p>“I think Sam would be of you and your dad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. That’s it.” Lisa had come back to the living room, followed closely by John. “Dishes are done.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for doing them.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“My pleasure, honey. You two okay? Seemed like a pretty serious conversation going on in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re fine.” Dean said. “You ready to get home?”</p><p> </p><p>Lisa suddenly snapped her fingers. “Almost. Dean, can you pop the trunk of the car? I want to give Ronnie that stuff we brought for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t have to get me anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I wanted to. Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie walked towards the car with Lisa, John and Dean following behind her. The trunk of the car came up, and Lisa pulled out a large shopping bag. She closed the trunk and placed the bag on top. Ronnie pulled down the top of the bag slightly to take a look inside.</p><p> </p><p>“Clothes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I’m a little bit of a pack rat, so I still had a lot of my clothes from when I was your age. They need to be washed and sorted, but they look to be about your size.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie was stunned. “You’re just…you’re just giving ‘em to me?”</p><p> </p><p>“If you want ‘em, sure.” Lisa said. “If there’s any you don’t like, you can donate ‘em. But John told us you didn’t have a lot of clothes of your own, so I dug these out for you.”</p><p> </p><p>All three adults were left dumbfounded when Ronnie burst into tears, but Lisa seemed best equipped to handle it. While John and Dean simply stood by, unable to think of what to do, Lisa immediately wrapped an arm around Ronnie’s shoulder and comforted her before asking what was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. You must think I’m awful.” Ronnie said with a sob.</p><p> </p><p>“No. I don’t. But I would like to know what’s wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. Really. It’s just…” Ronnie sniffed and pointed to the bag of clothes. “I’m not used to anybody doing stuff like this for me. It doesn’t really feel real.” Ronnie laughed a little, her emotions running in every direction. “Does that sound dumb?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all.” John answered.</p><p> </p><p>“I felt the same way when I married Lisa.” Dean admitted. “And when Ben was born.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Thank you.” Ronnie said. “I was getting pretty tired of wearing the same three things.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow morning I’ll come back over. I’ll help you go through the bag and wash what you like. And if John can spare you for a few hours, you and me can go…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, not the ‘s’ word!” Dean lamented.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie laughed. “What’s the ‘s’ word?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shopping, dear. Shopping.” Lisa answered. “And relax, Dean. You don’t have to go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. That’s okay, then.” Dean grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“You can stay here and do that boy’s night in with Ben like you promised. And if you want, Ronnie, you can stay with me at my house and we’ll have a slumber party.” Lisa said. “I know it’s probably not much fun with an adult, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“No. It sounds like fun.” Ronnie said. She turned to John and asked, “Is it okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay with me.” John said. “Lisa, you mind getting her school stuff too? We got her supply list in the mail yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. We can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks again.” Ronnie said. She grabbed the clothes bag and tried to lug it inside, but it was too heavy and broke underneath her.</p><p> </p><p>“Here, kiddo. I’ll get this.” Dean volunteered.</p><p> </p><p>Dean carried the clothes to Ronnie’s room. An hour later, Ronnie was getting herself ready for bed. As they did every so often, memories were running through her head. Unable to sleep, Ronnie started to go through the clothes that Lisa had brought her, thinking back to the night she thought she’d learned that everyone was alone in the world.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Seven Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Her sixth birthday had been a day she’d dreamed about for months. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She’d lived in five different houses this year. Her first home, where she’d gone right after Mommy went to heaven, with Mama Jo and Papa George, had been the best. Mama Jo would hold her and wouldn’t get mad at her when she cried or wet the bed or woke up in the middle of the night. Papa George showed her all kinds of cool stuff, like fixing cars and how to trap bugs. But something had happened, something Ronnie still didn’t quite understand, and she’d had to leave them. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Every home since then had been terrible. Nobody liked her, and some of the parents were downright mean to her. Her mommy had never been mean to her. Her grandma had, but grandma was in the hospital now. Gil had told her that Grandma had killed her mommy, and she’d been very sick when she did it, so she’d have to go live in a hospital for a long, long time. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But none of that mattered now. Mommy was gone, Grandma was gone, and now Ronnie was all by herself.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She’d thought that her birthday would be different. Everybody got to have fun on their birthdays, right? But no one had said anything, and she’d gotten in big trouble for saying anything about it at dinner. She’d been relieved not to get a spanking again, like she seemed to get for everything, but she was still left feeling sad. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie got an idea just before she went to bed. She grabbed her notebook and ripped out a page, drawing herself a picture and putting it next to her pillow. She’d gotten the spanking she escaped at dinnertime when she was caught being up past her bedtime, but luckily, her picture was safe. Once she stopped crying, Ronnie pulled her picture out. It was a cupcake with a single candle on top of it. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Happy birthday, Ronnie.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie blew gently on the cupcake, folded the picture, and stuffed it under her pillow, right next to her picture of her mommy. She said goodnight to her mother, then closed her eyes and went to sleep. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Ronnie finally felt tired enough to go to bed, and laid down feeling better than she had in years. She had a roof over her head, clothes, food. Everything, for once, was taken care of, and Ronnie didn’t have to worry about taking care of herself.</p><p> </p><p>For the first time since her mother’s death, Ronnie felt as if someone truly loved her.</p><p> </p><p>She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head telling her it was all too good to be true.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: Okay, first of all-warning in this chapter for language and spanking. Don’t like, don’t read. The actual spanking isn’t written out, but the moment just before it is. One of Ronnie’s former foster families features heavily in this chapter. While the mom is good to Ronnie, the dad and brother aren’t. I promise it makes more sense in context. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>When she starts eighth grade at the local middle school, Ronnie runs into one of her former foster brothers who blames her, as he puts it, for ruining his life (more on that in the next chapter). John, Dean, and Lisa aren’t directly in this chapter, but they are mentioned. They will be back in the next chapter. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie was walking into the halls of what she hoped would be her only school this year.</p><p> </p><p>Sioux Falls turned out to be a huge city, with a ton of schools inside it. She had moved schools almost as many times as she’d moved homes, sometimes even going back to schools she’d left before. But she’d never attended this school before, and she hoped that it would be a chance to start over.</p><p> </p><p>That hope was completely shattered after she took her first class.</p><p> </p><p>Because of John’s insistence that she not ‘stay cooped up’ all the time, Ronnie had spent the last two weeks of summer break with the daughter of a friend of Lisa’s. Whitney was a year younger than her, but the two of them had grown somewhat close in a short amount of time. She and Whitney shared three out of their four classes together, so Ronnie was grateful now that the two of them had become friends. At least she’d have someone other than John to complain to about classes.</p><p> </p><p>“I think we’re apart for the next class.” Whitney said.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie checked her schedule. “I have English. You?”</p><p> </p><p>“Algebra.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nooo!” Ronnie whined then grinned, making the both of them laugh. “Meet you in the cafeteria right after for lunch?”</p><p> </p><p>“You got it. Here, you want some of this candy that Lisa gave me…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, well, well. I never thought I’d get to see you again.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie froze. She’d heard that voice before, and only had bad dreams associated with it. Whitney noticed her friend freeze up, and when she saw the source of the voice, she rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want, Billy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shove off, four eyes.” Billy answered Whitney rudely. “I wasn’t talking to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And she’s not going to be talking to you. Leave her alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie was shaking and trying to hide it. She reached out and grabbed Whitney’s hand. A concerned Whitney started to ask whether Ronnie needed to go visit the nurse, but Billy wouldn’t allow it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you get lost, four eyes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you come up with something a little more original, you butt ugly weasel?”</p><p>“Get. Lost.” Billy said again.</p><p> </p><p>The bell rang, and Whitney pulled Ronnie’s hand firmly. “Come on, let’s go to class.”</p><p> </p><p>“You kids there, end of the hall! Time to get to class or you’ll be late!”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Ronnie. It’s okay. Let’s go. I’ll walk you to class.” <br/><br/></p><p>Ronnie started walking, trying to hide the shaking as she did. She heard Billy shout something behind her, which she would later find out was a threat to meet her after school. Whitney pulled Ronnie into the girls’ bathroom once the teacher at the end of the hall stopped looking. The two of them were alone, and Ronnie slid to the bathroom floor, still trying to get a grip on her emotions.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie? Come on, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” Whitney begged. “You’re shaking. How do you know Billy?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed and shook her head. She whispered something that Whitney couldn’t quite catch.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought it was over.” Ronnie said again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Six Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie held Gil’s hand tight as she walked up the steps to her newest house. She’d lost count of the number of times she had to do this. She kept a count in her notebook, but if she thought about it when she wasn’t writing in her journal, all she felt was sadness. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, kiddo.” Gil said, squeezing Ronnie’s hand as he rang the doorbell. “You ready?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie shrugged. “I guess.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Gil frowned. He hated this. Ronnie had some rough edges to her, but they were chiseled into her after things had happened that no one should have to suffer, much less children. He said a prayer to himself that this would be the last time. He’d always be there for Ronnie if she needed him. He just prayed that this would be the last time she did. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey there, Gil.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>“Hi, Mona. Can we come in?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Absolutely. Who is this cutie?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“This is Ronnie. Can you say hi, honey?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie waved weakly. “Hi.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi, sweetheart. I’ve about got dinner ready. Do you like meatloaf?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie smiled. “That’s my favorite.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Good. Well, here, this is Billy.” Mona pointed to a little boy, slightly older than Ronnie, who was standing behind her. “Billy’s gonna help you take your stuff to your room, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Put your things down and wash up for dinner, okay? I’ll help you put your things away after you eat.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, ma’am. Can I say goodbye to Gil first, please?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona seemed to be a kind enough woman, but Ronnie had learned to grow weary of strangers. Smiles weren’t really smiles to her. Ronnie had come to learn that when some people smiled, it was just a way to hide how mean they really were. Mona smiled at her before giving permission. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course you can, sweetie.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie shared a quick hug with Gil, who promised, like always, to ‘be back to check on you next week, kiddo’. When Gil left, Billy took Ronnie’s bag and brought it to the room that had been set aside for her. The room was a nice one, especially when compared to some of the others she’d had. It was pretty big, with a bed, a dresser, and, to Ronnie’s surprise, a few toys. There was a teddy bear on the bed which Ronnie picked up and held. It was pink, soft, and fluffy. Ronnie was about to hug it when she felt a hand on her back that pushed her forward into the bed and down onto the floor. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“OW!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Billy stood above her, eyes glaring at her. “I’ve wanted this room forever. Figures I’d have to give it up for a wimp like you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, but please don’t push me. That hurt.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Boo hoo hoo. Get up and wash up for dinner.” Billy suddenly smiled, just like the smiles that always made Ronnie nervous. “I can’t wait till my dad gets ahold of you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Ronnie?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked around, realized she was panicking, and did her best to try to calm down. “I’m okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re not. What happened out there? How do you know Billy?”</p><p>“He was…”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie started to use the term <em>foster brother</em>, but she hated to apply brother to anything having to do with Billy. Dean was her brother. Dean protected her, made sure she was okay, and would never intentionally harm her. Billy’s entire focus had been on hurting her the entire three months she’d lived with him.</p><p> </p><p>“I lived with him and his parents for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Whitney said.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s just say he wasn’t very nice to me.” Ronnie said, hoping against hope that Whitney would just drop it.</p><p> </p><p>Whitney nodded. “Okay. I won’t push. But we’ve got forty-five minutes until lunch. You want to stay in here until then? Try and calm down?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Thanks.” Ronnie said gratefully. “I’m really okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please don’t tell John about this.” Ronnie begged. “I’m doing so good with him. I don’t want to chance him making me leave because of skipping class.”</p><p> </p><p>“Only if you promise you’ll stay away from Billy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Deal. Not a problem at all.” Ronnie said. “Not telling John also includes not telling Lisa and Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or asking Ben to tell anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine!”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie smiled. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Whitney did her best to cheer up the still shaky Ronnie, but Ronnie was going through memories again. They had become slightly more frequent in the past weeks, as if Ronnie’s brain was trying to process them now that she was in a safe place to do so. And Ronnie hated it. It kept her now from focusing on whatever stupid story Whitney was trying to tell or whatever joke she was trying to make.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Six Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie had been with the Wilkersons for a week, and she felt comfortable making her judgments about them. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona really was as wonderful as she’d seemed the first day. She took Ronnie to school every morning, picked her up, helped her with her homework if she needed and praised her for how smart she was when she didn’t, baked cookies with her, and did other fun stuff with her. Mona had admitted to Ronnie at one point that she’d always wanted a daughter. While Ronnie wished she would back off a little bit since Ronnie already had a mommy, she loved having someone nice around for a change. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Billy, Ronnie thought, was jealous. Mona loved Billy, and told him that every day, but Billy was mean. Mean to Mona and mean to Ronnie. In the week since he’d pushed her down in the bedroom, he’d hit Ronnie in the back of the head every time she walked past him, ‘accidentally’ walked in on Ronnie in the bathroom, constantly teased Ronnie to the point of making her cry twice, and even locked her in the backyard cellar once. Only later that night, after a lengthy search for Ronnie had turned up nothing, did a neighbor finally hear Ronnie screaming for help and save her. Mona had gotten really mad that night and punished Billy for what he did. While that made Ronnie feel better, it made things between her and Billy worse.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>As Mona sat in the living room rocking chair that night, holding and rocking the still crying Ronnie, who basked in the unusual caring attention being heaped on her, Ronnie knew that Billy would probably find a way to get her back.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The revenge came that night, and it was worse than seven-year-old Ronnie could even imagine. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Billy’s father, Jack, was a big, scary man. He’d made no secret of the fact that he didn’t want Ronnie there. Ronnie had tried to convince Mona to call Gil and just let her be moved to a different house, so as not to make things hard between the couple. One of Ronnie’s worst fears was being a burden, as it had gotten her kicked out from so many other places so far. But Mona wouldn’t hear of it, and Ronnie was starting to believe Mona’s constant assurances that Tom and even Billy would eventually come around to accepting her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dinner was done, and Ronnie was just about to set the table with the last plate. Mona thanked her for her help and told her to go wash up, just like normal. Jack came in the door at that very moment, pushing right past little Ronnie and to the kitchen sink. Trying to help him ‘come around’, like Mona had said, Ronnie greeted him nervously. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi, Mr. Wilkerson.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Jack looked down at the tiny Ronnie with disgust and said nothing, turning his back to her and back to the sink. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jack?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What, Mona?” Jack asked irritably. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie said hi to you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I heard the little brat.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona sighed. “Can you please say hi back? Maybe ask her how her day was?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t give a damn how this stupid little brat’s day was.” Jack snapped. He turned to Ronnie and snarled. “Didn’t she tell you to go wash up?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie nodded. “Yes, sir.” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well? What are you still standing here for?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie deflated. “I’m sorry. I’m going now.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie heard Mona arguing with Jack the entire way to the bathroom. She wished that Mona would just let it go. Ronnie knew when she wasn’t wanted. It was a feeling she’d grown used to over the months she’d been in foster care. She washed her hands and just hoped that the argument would be over by the time she got back to the dinner table. She heard Mona call Billy to come inside, and when she got back to the dinner table, everyone was already seated. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s about time you joined us.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be faster next time.” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whatever. Just eat, kid.” Jack said, starting to spoon food from the table onto his plate. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>A frustrated Mona plastered a smile onto her face and asked, “Ronnie, sweetie, would you like milk or juice to drink with your dinner?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Milk, please.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Coming right up.” Mona poured her glass and laid it in front of her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona smiled. “You’re so sweet. You know that?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie felt herself smile. It wasn’t often anymore that an adult was nice to her for no reason, but she felt that Mona was being genuine. “Thank you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Would it bother you if I kissed your cheek?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mommy used to do that, Ronnie thought. “No. It won’t bother me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Would you sit your ass down?” Jack snapped. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Despite Jack’s annoyance, Mona quickly kissed Ronnie on the cheek. Ronnie basked in Mona’s attention for the briefest of moments, but her enjoyment was abruptly cut short. As Mona took her seat between Jack and Billy, Ronnie spotted Billy smirking and moving his hand towards her glass of milk. A second later, the glass crashed to the floor and shattered. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie’s first instinct was to apologize, even though she didn’t do it. But before she got the chance, Jack was up and grabbing her off her seat. He kept a tight hold on her arm as he yanked her off the chair. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You little brat! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jack, please don’t do this…” Mona started begging. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>“No. You shut up. You wanted this kid, and you got her. But I’ll be damned if I let her throw temper tantrums and break stuff in this house.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“But I didn’t do it.” Ronnie said, trying to loosen Jack’s hold on her arm. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What was that? Are you lying to me now?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No, sir, I swear I’m not, I didn’t do it!” Ronnie insisted. “Please let me go, you’re hurting me!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jack…” Mona tried again. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Shut up, Mona!” Jack snarled again, then bent down low and got so close to Ronnie’s face that she could feel his breath. “You will be a fucking model citizen if you’re gonna stay in this house. You do shit like this, you get punished for it right then. You lie to me about it, you get punished again. Right now, you’re getting a whippin’ for breaking that cup. Tomorrow you’re getting a worse one for lying to me. You also don’t get any dinner tonight or tomorrow. You want to stay here, you’ll stay still and take this without complaining. You don’t, I can call that bastard Gil to come get you tonight. What’ll it be? And you better make the choice quick.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie wanted badly to tell him to call Gil. She wasn’t about to be punished for something she didn’t do. But Mona’s face stopped her. Mona was crying almost as much as Ronnie was. She looked so sad at the thought of Ronnie leaving, that Ronnie just couldn’t do that to her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll stay still.” Ronnie whispered.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What? Speak up.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll stay still.” Ronnie squeaked slightly louder. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Good choice. I’ll let you keep your pants up this time and tomorrow night, but we have to do this again, they’ll be coming down. Do you understand me?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, sir.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Put your hands on the back of that chair.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie would block out for years what happened next. Her last coherent memory, before falling asleep crying in Mona’s arms that night while she apologized over and over, was the sound of Jack’s belt coming out of his pants.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The school bell rang, signaling the end of second period and the start of the lunch period for both girls. Whitney was worried about Ronnie, but since Ronnie seemed to be doing much better, she chose not to press. The rest of the day went smoothly, and the two of them even enjoyed it. Just as the two girls were walking down the sidewalk to head home, Ronnie felt something hit her in the back of the head.</p><p> </p><p>“You think you’re getting away from me?” Billy called. “Turn around, you bitch. You ruined my life, the least you can do is turn around.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this update took so long. I got placed on some new medication this week that made my brain very fuzzy and made it next to impossible to focus. But that’s clearing up, so here it goes!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>There’s no flashback in this chapter, but there will be in the next one. I was going to have John pick her up from school, but I changed it Dean. Ronnie opens up a little about what Jack meant by Ronnie sending his dad to prison, and the next chapter will wrap that storyline up. There’s a few more chapters planned after that, so this isn’t even close to it. Stay tuned!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“You think you’re getting away from me?” Billy called. “Turn around, you bitch. You ruined my life, the least you can do is turn around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go.” Whitney urged. “Don’t let him get to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have to.” Ronnie said. “If I don’t, he’ll just keep tormenting me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then let’s tell John or Dean or the principal about what’s going on. Come on, don’t fight on the first day. You’ll never live that down.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t do anything unless he starts it first.”  </p><p> </p><p>Ronnie saw Whitney’s point, saw she was trying to protect her, but Whitney just didn’t know. She didn’t know what was going on right then in Ronnie’s head. Whitney wasn’t aware of the fear Ronnie still carried around inside her constantly because of the way she’d been treated, not just by Jack, but others like him.</p><p> </p><p>It was time for her to take back a little of her power. Get rid of at least a little of that constant sick feeling inside her.</p><p> </p><p>“Whitney, take my backpack, please.”</p><p> </p><p>Whitney shook her head, but took the backpack and put it on her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Go on. Head home.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“No way.” Whitney said. “I may not agree with you, but I’m not gonna let you do something stupid alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie would come to recognize that moment as the moment she formed her first ever lasting friendship with someone her own age, but she was too focused on Billy to recognize it just then. She turned back to find that Billy had come straight for her and was standing close enough she could smell his breath. Just like his father years before.</p><p> </p><p>“Back up, Billy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or what?” Billy taunted. “What are you gonna do if I don’t? Tell someone else and get me sent to jail like you did my dad?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said back up.”</p><p> </p><p>Billy laughed. “You’re pathetic.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not fifteen in the eighth grade.”</p><p> </p><p>Before she knew what was coming, Ronnie found herself knocked down to the ground. Without even looking at what she was doing, Ronnie kicked, grabbed onto Billy, and lashed out as hard as she could. She heard a small crowd gathering behind her, cheering the two of them on. Just as she had Billy pinned down, the memory of her seven-year-old helpless self, hurting and crying running through her mind, she felt herself pulled back and away from Billy.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie! Calm down!”</p><p> </p><p><em>Dean? What are you doing here? </em>“Let me at him!”</p><p> </p><p>“No! Calm the hell down! Now!”</p><p> </p><p>“You too, Mr. Wilkerson.” Billy was being held back by the school principal, Ronnie by Dean. “All of you start heading home! Now!”</p><p> </p><p>The disappointed crowd was broken up, and Dean pulled a still fighting Ronnie to him. “What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“He came after her first.” Whitney said from the sidelines.</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t answer the question. Ronnie, what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dee, I didn’t touch him…” <br/><br/></p><p>Dean still wasn’t completely used to Ronnie calling him Dee. He couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. Sam was the only one who had ever called him that. Right now, that was on the backburner.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, calm down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Winchester, can you meet me in my office in five minutes please?” The principal, Mrs. Mulroney, asked. “Give me enough time to calm Billy down and call his mother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” Dean turned back to the still shaking Ronnie. “Ronnie, come on, kid. Talk to me. What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well you better tell me something!” Dean said, exasperated. “You don’t strike me as the kid to just fight for no reason.”</p><p> </p><p>“He started it.” Ronnie said. She didn’t know why she was so reluctant to tell Dean everything going on, but she was. “He started it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, kid. Come on, let’s go to the principal’s office.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Ronnie asked.</p><p>“I got off from the garage a little early so I thought I’d come get you from school.”  Dean explained. “What happened out here?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shook her head. “Nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kiddo, look at who you’re talking to. You know how many fights I was in in school? At least tell me he provoked you.”</p><p> </p><p>“He provoked me.” Ronnie said flatly.</p><p> </p><p>Dean sighed. He clearly wasn’t going to get any answers from Ronnie. Dean took Ronnie’s backpack from Whitney, who left to walk home. Ronnie was quiet and subdued on the walk to the principal’s office. Billy was waiting there, sitting in one of the four chairs in the office, slumped over and pouting. When Ronnie and Dean walked in, Billy barely acknowledged them and Mrs. Mulroney pointed to two of the other empty chairs.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie didn’t know why she felt the need to not tell Dean what was going on. Dean had more than proved to her that he was trustworthy. But admitting what had happened with Billy was something she just couldn’t do.</p><p> </p><p>“Have a seat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Dean said.</p><p> </p><p>He started to take the seat on the far, directly opposite Billy, before Ronnie ran around him and took that chair instead. Dean’s brain immediately went to work. <em>She’s scared of this kid. Why? </em>When Dean took his seat, he grabbed Ronnie’s hand, hoping she wouldn’t push him away like she might have just a few weeks earlier.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. I need to know what happened out there, but we are all going to be respectful in here. Am I clear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, ma’am.” Ronnie answered.</p><p> </p><p>Billy mumbled under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like <em>whatever.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Wilkerson. I asked if you understood.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”           </p><p> </p><p>Dean tensed. Years of conditioning had taught him to make sir and ma’am automatic, and it bothered him to no end when his internal rule wasn’t followed by someone else.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Now what happened out there? One of you at a time. Why don’t we start with you, Miss Wells?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “He called me a name. I told him more than once to leave me alone. He jumped me and I defended myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“What name?” Dean asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Winchester, I’d prefer if she didn’t repeat it here in the office.” Mrs. Mulroney said. She moved swiftly over to Billy. “What do you have to say, Mr. Whitaker?”</p><p> </p><p>“She ruined my life. She got my dad sent to jail.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie tensed in her seat, but didn’t respond.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Winchester, please. Language.” Mrs. Mulroney chastised lightly.</p><p> </p><p>Dean bit his tongue and took a deep breath. Sitting in the principal’s office was an all too familiar feeling for him, both from the parent and student perspective. While it was annoying for him, he understood that Mrs. Mulroney was just trying to set an example for Billy and Ronnie, so he sat back.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Wilkerson, is that true? Did you attack Miss Wells?”</p><p> </p><p>“She deserved it.”</p><p> </p><p>“No matter whether or not you believe that, Mr. Wilkerson, attacking another student is in no way allowed. You have one week of detention, starting on Monday.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about her?” Billy asked. “Why can’t she be in trouble for what she did to me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I will deal with her in a moment, Mr. Wilkerson. But I expect you to show up for each and every detention. Is that clear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can go and wait for your mother in the hall.” Mrs. Mulroney said.</p><p> </p><p>Billy mumbled something else that Dean barely heard, but Dean was proud of himself for how he held his ground. Whatever Billy had against Ronnie, Dean decided, it was nowhere near bad enough to treat her in any way short of perfectly respectful.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Wells, are you okay?” Mrs. Mulroney asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you and Mr. Wilkerson have some kind of history together? You don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, ma’am. We do.” Ronnie said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“With you two being in the same grade, it could be difficult, but I can keep him apart from you. All different classes, I can tell him that if he goes near you again he’ll be in trouble, anything you feel like you need.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think you should take it, kiddo…” Dean started to say.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay, Dean. Really.” Ronnie answered. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.</p><p> </p><p>“You can stop worrying about whether you’re in trouble, Miss Wells. I saw the fight start from my window. I know he jumped on you first and you were just defending yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie exhaled hard. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“But that doesn’t give you license to start any fights with him in the future.” Mrs. Mulroney said, a slight edge to her voice. “I’ve seen your transcripts, Miss Wells. You’ve been suspended seven times in seven years for fighting. I want to give you another chance this year. I don’t believe in suspension, but I can and will give you after school detention for weeks if it’s needed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very well. If you’re sure you don’t need the nurse, Miss Wells, you’re free to go. Mr. Winchester, I assume you’re taking her home…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Thank you.” Dean said, reaching over and shaking Mrs. Mulroney’s hand. He too was happily surprised Ronnie wasn’t in more trouble.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mrs. Mulroney said. “Have a good night, Miss Wells.”</p><p> </p><p>“You too.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie left the school building with Dean, walking slowly behind him towards the Impala. Dean’s face was scrunched tightly, and Ronnie knew he was angry. While she might have been out of trouble with the principal, she was surely in for it now when she got home. Ronnie took the front seat and placed her backpack in the floorboard, waiting on Dean to start lecturing her.</p><p> </p><p>Or worse.</p><p> </p><p>But something caught Ronnie’s attention from the other side of the parking lot. Billy was getting into a car. In the driver’s seat was an extremely unhappy looking woman. She looked twenty years older than the last time Ronnie had seen her, but there was no doubt who she was. Her conflicting feelings raging inside her, Ronnie turned and focused her attention on Dean, who was starting the car.</p><p> </p><p>“Just get it over with, please.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean, who was just about to pull out of the parking space, stopped and turned to Ronnie. “What, kiddo?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just get it over with, please. Whatever you’re gonna say or do about me fighting today.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean was confused. “What are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re mad, just get it over with!” Ronnie repeated.</p><p> </p><p>Dean took the key out of the ignition. “I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you?”</p><p> </p><p>“You look like you just swallowed sour milk and you’re not talking to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m pissed at that jackass kid for attacking you. Not at you. All you did was defend yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie, skeptical, asked, “You’re really not mad?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean sighed. “Look, kid. I’ve gotten in my share of fights. I’m not gonna judge you for that. Just promise you’ll do what Mrs. Mulroney said. Don’t provoke anything, but if Billy comes after you again, you do exactly what you did today.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie smiled. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, scratch that. He bothers you again, you tell <em>me</em>. Got it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it. Thanks. Hey, Dean? Can we keep this between us? Not tell your dad about it?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiled. Though he was certain John wouldn’t be upset when the whole story came out, he understood Ronnie’s desire to keep the afternoon’s events under wraps. “You got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are we gonna tell him though? About why I’m so late?” Ronnie asked. “It’s almost five.”</p><p> </p><p>“How about I’ll call him and tell him we went to grab a slice of pizza after school? I’ll take the blame for not calling him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Deal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go.” Dean said. “Hey, Ronnie? You know I got you, right? You need me, all you have to do is say so.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” Ronnie said. “I do.” She took a breath and asked, “Do you want to know about that history I mentioned with Billy?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean nodded. He knew that for Ronnie to volunteer information about her past was a sign that she trusted him, and he’d never felt more touched. “Sure, kiddo.”</p><p> </p><p>“His parents were my foster parents for a while. His mom was real nice to me, but Billy and his dad weren’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did they do?”</p><p> </p><p>“At first, Billy would do stupid kid stuff. Push me and tease me. Stuff I could ignore easily enough. His dad just ignored me at first. Then one night Billy tricked me.”</p><p> </p><p>“How old were you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was seven. He was nine. He told me he found some cool bird’s nest outside and he wanted to show it to me. Instead he pushed me in the underground cellar they had out there and locked me in there for hours.”</p><p> </p><p>“Little bastard.” Dean said. “Sorry, go on.”</p><p> </p><p>“His mom found me, but it was hours later. I told her what happened and she punished Billy. She spanked him with a switch and made him apologize to me. She lectured him for a long time, told him that I could’ve died down there and he’d have been responsible.” Ronnie explained. “After that’s when Billy really got nasty.”</p><p> </p><p>“How so?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’d do anything to get me in trouble and his dad would always believe him.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did his dad do?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed. “Spanked me. A lot. Mostly with his belt. Sometimes with the belt and a paddle.”</p><p> </p><p>“How often did that happen?”</p><p> </p><p>“Every couple of days.” Ronnie said. “Sometimes more than once a day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Son of a BITCH!” Dean yelled, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. He saw Ronnie jump and apologized again. “Sorry. They just really piss me off.” <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s okay. It feels good having someone stand up for me.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“How did jail get in the mix?” Dean asked. “What did his dad do to you to go to jail?”</p><p>“I got tired of it one night. Billy had stolen some money from his dad, and of course I caught the blame. He came in the room to spank me and I told him to leave me alone. I didn’t do it and I didn’t deserve to get punished for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“How’d he react?”</p><p> </p><p>“The last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital a week later is him throwing me up against the wall.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean collected himself, and the effort to do so was monumental. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re safe now with Dad. You know that, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do.” Ronnie said. “I really do.”</p><p> </p><p>“He would never hurt you like that. Ever. I can’t guarantee he’d never spank you, but he’d never hurt you that way.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I really do get it, Dean. And I know you and Lisa wouldn’t either.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right.” Dean said. “Come on, what do you say we call Dad and we go grab that pizza?”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds good.”</p><p> </p><p>Forty-five minutes later, as Dean was dropping Ronnie off at his father’s, there was a familiar face sitting on the porch with John. It took Ronnie a moment to place it, but when she did, her heart dropped.</p><p> </p><p>Mona had come to see her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronnie stood outside the car absolutely frozen. What was Mona doing here? As Dean took her hand, trying to lead her to the porch, Ronnie thought of the last time the two of them had been together.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Six Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Everything hurt. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>That was the first thing Ronnie felt when she opened her eyes. Everything hurt. She wanted to move, but she couldn’t. As she opened her eyes more, she started to remember what happened. The more she thought about it, the more she almost wished she hadn’t woken up. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie saw someone sitting next to her bed. A familiar head of black hair made her smile. Ronnie put a hand on Mona’s head and patted it gently. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Momma.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie would later convince herself that she had meant to say Mona, and not Momma, and that it was her drug induced haze that had made her say that. But for that moment, Ronnie was certain that she’d gotten the mommy she wanted so badly. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona lifted her head and smiled at the hurt Ronnie. Ronnie could see that she’d been crying, and she reached for Mona’s hand to try and hold it. But she had to stop. Both her hands were bandaged so much that she couldn’t move them. Mona took a seat on the bed and pushed Ronnie’s meticulously brushed hair out of her face. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi, sweetheart.”<br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“How are you feeling?” Mona asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Sore.” Ronnie said. “Hurts.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I know. I’ll be right back, sweetie. I’m going to get the doctor and Gil, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No. Please stay wif me.” Ronnie begged. “Don’t leave.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona frowned. “Okay, honey. I’ll stay.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What happened?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you remember?” Mona asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie swallowed and her eyes filled with tears. She did remember what happened, and she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mona shushed her gently. “No, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. None of this was your fault.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I shouldn’t have made him mad…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“No. Listen to me. You did not deserve this. You didn’t deserve any of this, and I’m sorry I brought you into it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not.” Ronnie said. “I’m glad I met you.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“And I’m glad I met you.” Mona said with a smile.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Where is he?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Who?” Mona asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Jack.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s gone. He can’t hurt you again.” Mona promised. “Don’t worry, okay? You’re safe.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie smiled. “Does that mean you can be my mom now?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona’s face fell. She’d prayed that Ronnie wouldn’t ask that question. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What? Why?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“It just can’t happen. Baby, I’m sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Please. Please don’t send me away. I’m sorry, just don’t send me away again, please…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Ronnie, listen to me, honey. Please just calm down and listen to me.” Mona wanted badly to take the wounded Ronnie into her arms and hold her again. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I’m so sorry. But I’m afraid that if I take you home, Billy will blame you for his Daddy going away. I’m afraid he’ll hurt you too.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“But you’ll be there. You can keep me safe.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, honey. No.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll be good. I swear. Please.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona shook her head. “No.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie felt her heart crack. “What’s wrong with me?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” Mona asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s wrong with me?” Ronnie asked tearily. “Why don’t anybody want me? Why won’t nobody be my mommy?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, sweetheart…” Mona gently took Ronnie’s arm to try and comfort her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Go ‘way.” Ronnie snatched her arm away from Mona. “Just go ‘way and leave me alone. Everyone else does.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Just leave me alone.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>This, Ronnie would come to understand later, was a defining moment in her life. The moment when she understood the truth of her life. The moment that the pain she’d carried since her mommy died exploded inside her chest and seemed to stick to every part of her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She was alone. No one wanted her to be their kid. So she’d stop trying. She’d stop dreaming of a mommy and a daddy and maybe a brother or sister and just accept that she’d always be alone. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I know this is hard to believe, Ronnie. But I’m doing this because I love you. I can’t let Billy hurt you, sweetheart.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I said leave. Leave me alone. You not my mommy, so leave me alone.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Mona went to the door and turned back to the crying Ronnie. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you don’t believe me. But I’m so sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What is sorry supposed to do, Ronnie thought. It didn’t take away the hurt she was feeling. When Mona turned away and left, all Ronnie could do was focus on how she felt herself. How heartbroken and shattered she felt. What she couldn’t see, as she heard the door close behind Mona and Gil come inside, was Mona’s own tears as they fell down her face. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Mona smiled from the porch. “Hi, Ronnie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, she said she’s a friend of yours. Is that true?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Ronnie said bitterly. “No, she’s not.”</p><p> </p><p>Mona frowned. “Honey, I just came to talk.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I have nothing to say to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, it can’t hurt to hear her out.” John said gently.</p><p> </p><p>It did hurt. It hurt every ounce of Ronnie’s being to hear Mona out. But what John said went, so Ronnie stayed silent.</p><p> </p><p>“How have you been?”</p><p> </p><p>“Crummy thanks to you.” Ronnie answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie.” John said gently. While he wanted her to be polite, he didn’t know her history with this woman and didn’t want to force anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, I just have one thing to say to you. Please just listen and hear me out. Please?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie sighed. She said nothing, just waited for Mona to talk.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry that Jack hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t do a good job of protecting you. And most of all I’m sorry I didn’t take you in.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean was certain that Ronnie was trying to squeeze his hand off. He pulled his hand out of Ronnie’s and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, where he felt the full force of her shaking under him.</p><p> </p><p>“Dad.” Dean pleaded. He pointed at Ronnie, praying his dad would get the hint.</p><p> </p><p>John caught on right away. “I know I said you could stay for dinner, but I think you should go, Mrs. Wilkerson.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I understand.” Mona said. “I’ll leave you alone now Ronnie. I’m sorry about Billy today. I’ll talk to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“You should probably do more than talk, lady.” Dean replied bitterly.<br/><br/>“Dean, it’s okay. Let her go.” Ronnie said. She looked up and asked, “Do you get that you messed me up? That the only reason I stayed with you so long, even with him doing what he did to me, was because you promised to adopt me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you get that you left me alone in the hospital at seven years old, thinking I wasn’t good enough to have a family? That I didn’t deserve a mom or a dad?”</p><p> </p><p>Mona nodded sadly.</p><p> </p><p>“I moved <em>twenty </em>more times since then. That’s not even counting the five times I lived in the group home or the weekends that Gil took me home with him and his wife. I’ve only been with John for a few weeks now, but that’s the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, <em>I’m</em> sorry, but sorry’s not enough. Jack might have hurt me on the outside, but you destroyed me on the inside. I just can’t tell you it’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I get that.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I do forgive you.” Ronnie said. “I don’t want you to spend your whole life carrying that around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. Thank you, sweetheart.” Mona suddenly coughed so much that she seemed to sway where she stood.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, are you okay?” Ronnie asked, running over and helping to support Mona. “Come on, sit down.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no. I’m fine.” Mona said. She turned to John. “Could I have some water, please?” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’ll grab you a bottle out of the fridge.” Dean volunteered.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with you?” Ronnie asked, afraid to know the answer.</p><p> </p><p>Mona accepted the bottle from Dean, thanked him, then smiled back at Ronnie. “Lung cancer.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie shifted awkwardly. No matter what she felt about Mona, she was a good woman, and Ronnie didn’t want her suffering. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, honey, but that’s just the way my life worked out.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Look, John already invited you for dinner. Why don’t you stay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, really, but I need to get home to Billy.” Mona said, almost reluctantly. She took a long look at Ronnie and asked, “Can I have a hug?” </p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Five minutes later, Mona was back in her car waving goodbye to everyone. Ronnie felt slightly better, at least until she turned back to John.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me you got in a fight at school today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dad…”</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, I want her to tell me.” John said, keeping his eyes on Ronnie.</p><p> </p><p>“He attacked me first.” Ronnie said. She told John a briefer version of the story she’d told Dean in the car. “I asked him nicely twice to leave me alone, and I told him to go away.”</p><p> </p><p>John nodded. “Okay. That’s what Mona said. Just remember this, okay? You don’t start a fight with Billy, but you can end anything he starts. Got it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it. Am I in trouble?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, honey. You’re not in trouble.” John said. “Hey, Dean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Dad?”</p><p> </p><p>“Remember those papers Gil got for me? Where I put them?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiled. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Want to grab them for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, Dad.” Dean went inside the house and came back out with a yellow envelope.</p><p> </p><p>“I was going to wait to do this until we were all together this weekend. But I think you need to know now. I want you to open it up in just a second, but before you do, just know this. It’s totally your decision. If you don’t want to do this, or you’d rather wait and think about it, it’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Ronnie asked as she opened the envelope. “Why are you being so weird?”</p><p> </p><p>Inside the envelope was a stack of papers, and Ronnie gasped when she read the title. <em>Certificate of Adoption</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re serious?” Ronnie whispered. “This isn’t a joke?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, honey. It’s not.” John said. “What do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Rather than answer, Ronnie grabbed John in the tightest hug she’d ever given anyone, with the possible exception of her mother. The moment was perfect. For once, Ronnie believed that things were working. She really would be okay.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“You bet it’s a yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you’re happy, honey. What do you say we go out to celebrate tonight?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid to let you go.” Ronnie said, arms still wrapped around John’s middle.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid it won’t be real.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Look up at me.” Ronnie looked up, tears stinging at the edge of her eyes, and John wiped them away. “You’re stuck with me, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Forever?”</p><p> </p><p>“Forever. But I’m starving. You don’t go put your backpack in your room, I’m leaving you here until I get back from dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>That finally drew a laugh from Ronnie. “Okay. I’ll be back.” She looked back and saw Dean leaning against the car. “Um, Dean and I already went out for pizza…”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I guess our trip will be to the bakery.”</p><p> </p><p>“Back in a flash!” <br/><br/></p><p>As Ronnie grabbed her backpack and ran upstairs to put it in her room, John found his mind and heart racing. The truth was that he had been considering adopting Ronnie since the first week he’d lived with her, but he’d gone back and forth on the decision. Now, it felt right.</p><p> </p><p>“Dad?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Dean?”</p><p> </p><p>“You did good.” Dean said. “I’m proud of you.”</p><p> </p><p>John nodded. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, come on, let’s go!” Ronnie said, running back outside and over to John’s truck.</p><p> </p><p>John laughed. “You want to go get Lisa and Ben? My treat.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said the magic words. We’ll meet you there.”  </p><p> </p><p>It was so quick that John was certain he imagined it. He’d never been sentimental when it came to the afterlife. He’d spotted his wife Mary a few times after she’d died, but mostly when he was in a drunken haze. Right now, though he was completely sober, and standing a few feet away, just beside the tailgate of his truck, was a smiling Sam giving him a thumbs up. In the next breath, he was gone.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, son.”</p><p> </p><p>Six months to the day later, John and Ronnie sat in the local courthouse. Dean, Lisa, Ben, and Gil sat behind them. Even Mona, whose condition was deteriorating, had become friends with Ronnie again and was sitting in the far corner of the courtroom. The judge had officiated the adoption and was in the process of signing the final paperwork.</p><p> </p><p>Everything was perfect.</p><p> </p><p>And it all came crashing down.</p><p> </p><p>The door to the courthouse opened. A somewhat disheveled looking older woman walked in, and Ronnie immediately shrunk back against John. The woman looked familiar to John, but he never got the chance to ask who she was. A man stepped in and stepped beside the older woman.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me! Who are you and why are you interrupting my courtroom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Apologies, your honor. My name is Matthew Klein. I’m a family court attorney.”</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t answer my initial question, Mr. Klein. What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“My client here violently opposes this adoption, your honor. She’s here to sue for custody from the state.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then she’s too late. I’m about to officiate this adoption. Mr. Winchester is, for all intents and purposes, Miss Wells’ father.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you have yet to sign the paperwork, am I correct, your honor?”</p><p> </p><p>The judge, slightly annoyed at the technicality, asked again, “Mr. Klein, if you don’t answer my question, I’ll be holding you in contempt. For the last time, who is your client to think she has a claim to sue for custody?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m her grandmother, your honor. My name is Delores Wells.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seven long days had passed.</p><p> </p><p>Dolores’ entrance had, of course, stopped the adoption in its tracks. The judge had met with John’s lawyer, Gil, John, Ronnie, Dolores, and Dolores’ lawyer in his chambers. The judge had very reluctantly admitted that he had to consider Dolores’ appeal. She had been deemed medically, emotionally, and mentally safe, and no longer a danger to herself or others. The doctor required weekly check-ins, and if she missed a single appointment, she was subject to being involuntarily committed again.</p><p> </p><p>The night before they went back to court, John couldn’t help but notice how quiet Ronnie was. She hadn’t said a word in hours, and hadn’t said much for the previous few days. She seemed to be in a state of shock, and John couldn’t blame her.</p><p> </p><p>He’d passed the time that week doing research into Ronnie’s life before her mother had passed. Ronnie had told him that her mother worked nights and that her grandmother would watch her while her mother worked. When John dug a little deeper, the information he found was both surprising and not at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>Lily Wells had been a straight A student throughout high school. She’d been a varsity basketball player, one of the only freshmen to ever be bestowed the honor. In her junior year of high school, she’d even gotten a tentative full scholarship from the University of South Dakota’s women’s basketball team. Lily Wells was on top of the world.</p><p> </p><p>Until the following year, what should have been her senior year, when she’d disappeared.</p><p> </p><p>John filled in the gaps of the next nine months easily enough. On Lily Wells’ eighteenth birthday, she’d been admitted to the local hospital in labor with a baby girl. Ronnie had been born healthy, at six pounds fifteen ounces and eighteen inches long.</p><p> </p><p>The question that had plagued John came on his third day of research. There was a deed, in Lily’s name, for a small, two bedroom, one bath, eighty five thousand dollar house. Lily owned the house free and clear. How exactly had she been able to afford it?</p><p> </p><p>The answer came, buried in a box of arrest records. Lily had bene arrested, twice in five years, for prostitution and solicitation.</p><p> </p><p>John finally had the last puzzle piece. In Ronnie’s first year of life, Lily had worked one full time job and worked on the streets as a prostitute in order to afford a home for her and Ronnie. Once she’d purchased the home, Lily had quit her full time job and only had to ‘work’ two to three nights a week in order to afford groceries, utilities, and other things needed for herself and for Ronnie. At some point, Dolores had lost her house, and Lily had allowed her to move in with her. A year and a half later, Lily was dead and Ronnie had begun her long and complicated relationship with foster care.</p><p> </p><p>While he strongly disapproved of Lily’s choice of a job, he couldn’t judge her too harshly. She’d worked harder than most other eighteen year old kids could ever imagine in order to provide a home for her daughter, then continued to do what she could to both be there for her daughter and provide her with a home and food on her plate. Lily deserved the highest respect, and John just wished she was alive then so he could tell her how he felt.</p><p> </p><p>As John looked over at Ronnie’s still full dinner plate, he didn’t have the heart to try and prod her into finishing. He had no appetite either. He took a seat next to her and waited for her to talk. When she didn’t, he gave it a shot.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. What are you thinking?”</p><p> </p><p>“That this might be my last night here.”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed. “Honey, you can’t think that way. You don’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard Pete.” Ronnie said, referring to John’s lawyer that Gil had asked to represent them. “The chances that the judge is gonna let you adopt me when I have a biological relative willing to take me is next to nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Next </em>to nothing. That means we still have a chance.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie scoffed. “Things have never worked in my favor before. Why should they now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Listen. I can promise you this. Even if things don’t go our way tomorrow, I will do everything I can to keep you in my life. If you want, I’ll even try and fight for custody again if I can.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie smiled. “I still can’t get used to that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Used to what?”</p><p> </p><p>“People wanting to stand up for me. Do stuff for me. Fight for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will. I will fight for you as long as you want me too. As long as you need me.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie nodded. “I believe you.”</p><p> </p><p>“How are you feeling about seeing your grandmother again?”</p><p> </p><p>“How is she even <em>free</em>? She killed my mom. She killed her <em>own kid,</em> and she’s just allowed to walk around?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I don’t understand it either.” John agreed. “Can I give you your first little bit of dad advice?”</p><p> </p><p>“Could I stop you if I wanted to?”</p><p>John chuckled. “Nope. I wish I could tell you things would start to make more sense as you grow up. But I’m afraid they won’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gee, that really makes me feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, you will have one thing as you get older you didn’t have before.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me and Dean to help you figure it all out.” <br/><br/></p><p>Ronnie smiled and blushed from the attention. “No chick flick moments.”</p><p> </p><p>John let out a rare full belly laugh at that. “You’re definitely Dean’s sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to bed.” Ronnie said. “Good night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good night, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie suddenly did something that surprised John so much it took his breath away. She jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him so tightly that if John hadn’t been able to reposition her, she might have suffocated him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to leave you, Daddy.”</p><p> </p><p>A sharp pain made its way through John’s heart. The research he’d done into Ronnie’s background that week had served a sufficient distraction to keep his fear of losing her in check. But her fearful plea, especially with the <em>daddy </em>tacked at the end, only served to make it all come flooding back.</p><p> </p><p>The fact that the last time he’d been called Daddy had been twenty-five years ago, when Sam was ten years old, didn’t help either.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t fail Ronnie the way that he’d failed Sam. He couldn’t do it. If he lost in court the next day, he decided, he’d run with her. Settle down somewhere far away and make it impossible for anyone to find them. His hunter contacts were considerably thinner now than they had been years earlier, but he still had plenty of friends who could hide them. His plan in place, John wrapped both arms around Ronnie and rocked her gently.</p><p> </p><p>“No matter what happens tomorrow, everything will be okay. I’ll make it okay, honey. Don’t worry. Daddy’s here for you.”</p><p> </p><p>The courtroom that had been used for their case before had been shut down, so the group found themselves back in the judge’s chambers. Much to everyone’s surprise, Dolores’ lawyer wasn’t with her and despite the judges’ warning, she represented herself. Each side made a brief presentation as to why they deserved to have Ronnie. Ronnie stated her preference very clearly when asked.</p><p> </p><p>“My grandmother took away her privilege of being my family when she killed my mother. John’s my father, Dean’s my brother. I want to go home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your honor, I was sick…” Dolores said, for what felt like the tenth time that</p><p> </p><p>“Ms. Wells, we are not retrying your daughter’s case. That is not going to happen here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, your honor.” Dolores answered politely enough, her face a very reflection of someone who swallowed sour milk.</p><p> </p><p>The judge took a deep breath and checked the clock. “I need a little time to think about this. It’s 12:30, I’m dismissing for lunch until 2:30. Everyone eat a good meal, and be back here then. Understood?” Everyone agreed, and the room was dismissed. When Dolores started walking towards Ronnie, the judge quashed whatever plans she had. “Ms. Wells, stay away from them until after the ruling. I mean it. If I find out you’ve been harassing your granddaughter or any member of the Winchester family over this lunch break, I will throw your case out automatically.”</p><p> </p><p>Over the long lunch, Lisa and Dean, who had accompanied John and Ronnie to the hearing, tried to keep the atmosphere cheerful. Lisa left to pick up Ben from school, and Ronnie followed the two of them back to the judges’ chambers in a daze. Dolores walked back in, two minutes later, looking very smug.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Wells.” The judge said dryly. He shuffled a couple of papers in front of him and crossed his arms in front of him. “I have to say that this is both the easiest and the hardest custody case I’ve dealt with in twenty years on the bench. Even though it’s not always the easiest thing for me to determine, there’s one guiding principle I have to follow. It’s called the best interests of the child. Ms. Wells, I understand why you want to be back in your granddaughter’s life. I do get it. But I’m sorry. I am not about to award full custody of a minor child to someone who has only just been released from a psychiatric institution.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your honor, I…”</p><p> </p><p>“Ms. Wells, I strongly advise you to allow me to finish my ruling. I am not a very patient person with interruptions.”</p><p> </p><p>Dolores slouched back in her seat. Ronnie, sitting opposite Dolores with John next to her, had released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.</p><p> </p><p>“However, I do think that completely blocking Ms. Wells from her granddaughter altogether is not a wise idea either. Therefore, I’ve worked out a system. Mr. Winchester, I’m allowing your adoption of Ms. Wells to go through. After I’ve finished here, we’ll finish finalizing the adoption before you leave. Ms. Wells, you will be allowed three supervised visits with your granddaughter each week, to be determined at a time that Mr. Winchester sees fit. Any questions so far?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, your honor.” Everyone except Ronnie answered.</p><p> </p><p>The judge didn’t fail to notice that Ronnie was silent. “Miss Wells? I know you’re afraid to see your grandmother. I understand. She is going to have a lot of rules to follow in order to be able to see you. If she doesn’t keep them exactly as I spell out here, I will revoke her visitation privileges. And under no circumstances will she ever be allowed to see you without your father or your brother in the room with you. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie nodded. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just give it a chance. I’m going to review the situation every couple of months, and if you’re uncomfortable with it, we’ll talk about it. I’m just asking you to try here. Okay? Can you do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try.” Ronnie promised quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it. Okay, back to you, Ms. Wells. As I said, I will review this situation every sixty days for a year. Before the end of those first sixty days, I’m expecting you to have a job or have a damn good reason why you don’t have a job. After finding that job, if you want to keep seeing your granddaughter, I expect you to be paying Mr. Winchester a minimum of ten dollars a week in child support.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your honor? Can I say something?” John asked, raising his hand in the air.</p><p> </p><p>“Make it quick.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t need the money. I have more than enough to take care of Ronnie myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“I believe that, Mr. Winchester. The support is more of a way for Ms. Wells to demonstrate her continued interest in being a part of her granddaughter’s life. Use the money for something. Even if it’s getting a pizza at the end of the week, just use it for anything related to Ronnie’s care.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, your honor.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“Ms. Wells, you have one more condition. This paperwork you’ve given to the court states that you have to check in with your doctors at the hospital on the phone three days a week and go there for three days a week. I’m adding the condition that your doctors call my office and tell me verbally that you’ve attended every appointment and called for every phone check-in. You miss one appointment, you’re done. Do you have any questions?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Your honor, I’m on disability. I can’t hold a job and collect…”</p><p> </p><p>“As long as you pay the child support, follow all the other rules I laid down, and the income you collect is legal, I don’t care where the money comes from. Any other questions?”</p><p> </p><p>“No questions, but I strongly object to this ruling.” Dolores answered. “She’s my granddaughter, I should be able to raise her. The doctors have ruled me safe and competent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your granddaughter is terrified of you. I will not subject her to having to live with someone she’s terrified of except under circumstances very different from these. Now, if you want, you may file an appeal.” The judge remarked. “And make sure to have your lawyer do that for you if you so choose. But you’re going to have to earn the privilege of seeing your granddaughter, Ms. Wells. If you’d prefer me to just drop your petition and issue a permanent restraining order against you, I’d be more than happy to do that too. Take your pick.”</p><p> </p><p>Dolores chose to follow the judges’ ruling, and the family went home that night to celebrate. Though she was distracted at the thought of having to spend any time with her grandmother, she felt better that John or Dean had to be there when it happened. All thoughts of her grandmother, though, were chased from Ronnie’s mind when Lisa showed up at the house with a large birthday cake. The message on the front of the cake said it all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Happy birthday Veronica Anne Winchester. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Twenty-four hours later, as John ate a piece of the leftover cake from the night before while Ronnie was at school, all seemed to be behind them. Ronnie was now officially his daughter, and though Dolores had to step foot in his house, he was willing to deal with it for an hour a night if it meant that Ronnie would be with him for good. The phone rang, and when John picked up, he nearly collapsed.</p><p> </p><p>Although Ronnie had left for school at the usual time that morning, she’d never made it there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: You guys. This chapter just wouldn’t cooperate. But I think I finally ironed it out. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>One warning for this chapter-through flashbacks, Dolores reveals her reason for taking Ronnie and killing Lily. It’s a twisted and convoluted tale, but it’s meant to be. Remember, Dolores is not well, and her memories wouldn’t entirely make sense to someone that is. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>John Winchester was not a patient man.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to tear the entire town apart looking for Ronnie, but Dean convinced him otherwise. Dean’s argument made sense. They were certain that Dolores had taken Ronnie, and as far as either of them could tell, there was nothing supernatural about her. She was just, in Dean’s words, ‘the craziest bitch he’d ever met’. The best way to find Ronnie seemed to be, at least for the moment, calling the police.</p><p> </p><p>John was not fond of the local police. Some of the older veterans on the police force still believed that Bobby had been nothing but the town drunk. John knew that there had even been talk of investigating Bobby’s death, even though it had been ruled accidental. No one at the station seemed to know what to do with the strange man who had moved into Bobby’s house after his death, and John knew that doing anything even slightly out of the ordinary could trigger an investigation.</p><p> </p><p>The idea came to him from an old business card he kept on the fridge. The sheriff. Jody Mills had been a friend of Bobby’s, and John suspected she may have been more than that. Either way, she knew Gil well, and the two of them together were fighting as hard as they could to find Ronnie.</p><p> </p><p>But there was a stumbling block.</p><p> </p><p>Dolores had been found, and there was no sign she’d taken Ronnie.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean you can’t question her?”</p><p> </p><p>“John, listen to me.” Jody said. “We went to her house and we asked her if she’d seen Ronnie. She even gave us permission to search the house. There’s no sign that she’s there or that she’s ever been there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, there wouldn’t be!” John raised his voice, exasperated. “She’s too smart to hide Ronnie there!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, John. I really am. I think she did it too, or at least had something to do with it. We just need more evidence to bring her in.” <br/><br/></p><p>Gil, who had stepped outside to take a call, walked back in with a look of triumph on his face. “And I have it here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gil, what are you talking about?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>Dean walked in immediately behind Gil. He’d gone outside with Lisa to give her the keys to the car to go pick up Ben from school. Lisa was reluctant to leave, but she and Dean had both decided to keep Ben at home. They didn’t want to worry him unless and until there was something to worry about.</p><p> </p><p>“That was the investigator at my office. I asked him to look into Dolores’ release.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did he find out?” Jody asked.</p><p> </p><p>“She never was released. Her paperwork from the hospital was completely fake. Even her lawyer seems to be fake. There’s no record of a Matthew Klein graduating from a law school in South Dakota in the last twenty years.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds like plenty of evidence to me.” Jody said. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I have an arrest warrant to get.”</p><p> </p><p>After Jody walked out the front door, an angry Dean rounded on Gil. “What the hell, man?”</p><p> </p><p>“What, Dean?”</p><p> </p><p>“How the hell did you not keep an eye on her grandmother? Why wasn’t that at the top of your list?” Dean asked. “What the hell were you doing? I thought you cared about Ronnie.”  </p><p> </p><p>John started to tell Dean to back down, but he didn’t have to. Gil turned to Dean, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He was collecting his breath, reminding himself that Dean was scared and he needed to be calm. But the accusation that he hadn’t taken care of Ronnie was too much, and it pushed him over the edge of his patience.</p><p> </p><p>“You know what, Dean? You’re right. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>A startled Dean looked to his dad, then back to Gil. “You’re sorry? For what?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. You’re right. I forgot that <em>you </em>were the one who picked Ronnie up from the hospital the day after her mother died. It was you who sat with her for three days trying to get her to open up about what happened. It was you who took her to every single home, telling her to just believe that this would be the last one. It was you that sat beside her bed every day for a week when she was seven hoping she wouldn’t die because some bastard you thought you could trust beat her to an inch of her life. It was you who was with her at ten years old, when she swallowed a whole bottle of pills just so she could see who would be there <em>if</em> she woke up. It was you that got tired of seeing her crying for a family and getting hurt, so you look into adopting her yourself, only to be denied because of a stupid mistake you made years ago. I forgot that <em>you </em>went through all that trying to take care of Ronnie.” <br/><br/></p><p>A thoroughly browbeaten Dean backed off. “I’m sorry, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t ever question how I feel about that kid. I’m the only person that kid’s had from the time she was seven until I dropped her off with your father. I’ll give you a free pass this time because you’re worried and you’re upset, but if you do it again, I’ll knock you flat on your ass, boy. And I have a feeling your father won’t stop me.  You understand me?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean nodded and swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Okay. Now I’m going back to my office. I’m going to hand Ronnie’s picture around to the new social workers and tell them to call me if they see her. John, do you want me to go to the local news?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I’ll see what I can do about getting her picture circulated around town. Call me if you need me.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Thanks, Gil. Thanks a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. We’ll find her, guys. We will.”</p><p> </p><p>Across town, Dolores was frantic. She was packing up everything she had, which was a pitifully small amount, and trying to leave town fast. As frantic as she was, her mind kept drifting to the look on the sheriff’s face when she’d left. Of course she’d taken Ronnie! Did they think Dolores was stupid enough to keep the kid in her house once she’d taken her?</p><p> </p><p><em>That’s one advantage of being locked up in a crazy bin, </em>Dolores thought. <em>Everyone assumes you’re stupid. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>As smart as she felt she was, things had taken another turn. Dolores had underestimated Ronnie. She was no longer the shy, quiet child that Dolores remembered. Dolores had been told by her fellow escapee, who’d been a lawyer in his past life, that the second he’d grabbed Ronnie off the road that morning she’d started kicking and screaming and gave him an almost fifteen second fight before he could get her drugged and thrown in the back of the car. Dolores had paid Matt to leave and for his help and sent him on his way. Then the real trouble started.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Six Hours Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It was time. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Time to finish what she’d started years earlier. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It was hard for anyone who knew the truth of what she’d done to believe, but Dolores loved her daughter. She’d been so proud of Lily growing up. She’d known that her daughter was going places, and that she’d eventually be someone of importance. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>All that had changed when she met Eddie Dawes. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Eddie seemed like a nice person at first, but Dolores had always banned Lily from dating until she turned eighteen. Once she was in college and away from home, Dolores reasoned, Lily would just do what she wanted anyway, so there was no sense in telling her what to do after that. Until then, Dolores was in charge. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily’s junior year had just finished. Dolores was basking in the hope of a promising senior year for her daughter. Her own senior year of high school had been taken away from her by her father, when she was forced to drop out in order to get a job and help raise her four much younger brothers after her mother’s death. The memories of life after that, until Lily’s birth, were devoid of any happiness for her, marked only by periods of deep depression and obligation to everyone but herself. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>If she couldn’t have the life she’d dreamed of, Dolores had decided, she’d give it to her daughter. But all that came crashing down with three words. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mom, I’m pregnant.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dolores had gone crazy. Calling Lily a whore, yelling at her, screaming at her, generally getting out all the frustration she’d always felt at losing her own life as it should have been and now the prospect of Lily never having that life either. Lily contemplated giving Ronnie up for adoption, but out of frustration and anger, Dolores refused. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You did what you did to have this baby, you’ll do what you have to to raise it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily had done her duty, and it had taken nearly four years for Dolores to find out how she’d done it. Lily’s first arrest for prostitution had sent Dolores over the edge. She’d unsuccessfully tried to have Ronnie taken away from Lily, claiming that Lily’s ‘influence’ would be bad for Ronnie. She next tried to have Eddie sue for custody, only to discover that he’d died in a car accident not long after Ronnie was born. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Realizing that she’d never be able to take Ronnie away from Lily, she decided to get a little devious. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dolores sold her house and told Lily that she’d lost it. She was happy to find that Lily seemed to be as trusting as she always was, because she’d allowed Dolores to move in with only a few conditions. Dolores didn’t have to pay any rent, but she had to watch Ronnie while Lily was out. She was expected to put Ronnie to bed, feed her breakfast in the morning, and put her on the bus to school. If she did all that, Lily promised, without complaining, then maybe ‘we can actually get along for once, Mom’.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>For a few months, things seemed perfectly normal for Lily, and Dolores was perfectly happy to let her think that. Living under the same roof as Lily gave Dolores unfettered access to try and change Lily’s life. Try and turn her into the daughter that Dolores had always wanted. No matter how much Lily protested that she was fine with her life the way it was, Dolores would change it. Lily would become a respectable woman if it killed her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>In the end, it did. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The morning started off normally. Ronnie was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and getting ready for school. The phone rang, and Dolores gave the good news to a delighted Ronnie. Though Ronnie loved kindergarten, the thought that she got to spend all day and night with her beloved Mommy was early Christmas for her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie’s presence in the house complicated Dolores’ plan for that day, but only slightly. She’d decided to do it the night before. Another fight about what Lily called her ‘job’ had ended any hope Dolores had that Lily could be turned around. Dolores had given Ronnie a steady stream of milk that morning which had been dosed with Benadryl so she would sleep through whatever happened that day. After another argument in the morning, Dolores had left the house and come back an hour later. Lily and Ronnie were sleeping. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dolores woke up Lily and gave her an ultimatum. Quit what you’re doing and get a respectable job or go back to school. I’ll watch Ronnie and you can hold your head up high. Dolores then saw a side of Lily she’d never seen before. Lily had crossed her arms over her chest and listened to Dolores’ speech. She nodded in all the right places, said nothing, and made her mother think she was listening. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She was listening. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When Dolores finished talking, Lily had lifted her head up and gave her mother her response. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>“Get out. Get out of my house and do not come back. I’m done.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dolores saw red. She grabbed the knife that was on the counter and shoved it into Lily’s stomach. Once she realized what she’d done, Dolores ran without really paying attention to where she was going. Six hours later, she’d come back and was shocked to find that Lily was still alive. Where before she hadn’t known what she was doing, now she was perfectly clear. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>In order to save Ronnie from the influence of her mother, she had to dispose of Lily. She sent Ronnie to bed, put two bullets into Lily’s head, wrapped her up with a blanket, then went searching for Ronnie. Ten minutes later, after hearing sirens coming towards the house, Dolores gave up the search and ran from the house. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>That had been her last free day. Two hours later, she was in police custody, and a week later, she was in a mental institution. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Now, Dolores decided, Ronnie had been away from her too long. She still loved and missed her mother and failed to see how destructive Lily’s influence was. Ronnie had to be dealt with too. After she disposed of Ronnie, Dolores would take care of herself, and everything would be back the way it should be.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Dolores turned around and found a sleepy Ronnie starting to stir. She took a few seconds to recover, but when she did, she fought again. But Dolores had been prepared. She’d tied Ronnie to a kitchen chair and simply waited patiently until she calmed down.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Waiting for you to calm down, Veronica. Once you do, we’ll talk.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to talk to you. And you just lost any chance of being able to see me.”</p><p> </p><p>“No one will see you again. So don’t worry about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Ronnie asked. “You’re crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>Dolores delivered a sharp slap to Ronnie’s cheek, which immediately stilled the still squirming Ronnie. Ronnie had the good sense to at least look a little afraid.</p><p> </p><p>“I am not crazy.” Dolores said. “Apologize. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed hard. Dolores could tell that Ronnie would much rather spit in her face than apologize. Dolores was prepared for that too. If Ronnie did spit in her face, Dolores would simply take care of it the way she would have done with Lily. Predictably, a second later, Ronnie was on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Fifteen seconds later, Dolores realized her mistake. Ronnie had spit in her face to distract her. The second she’d slapped Ronnie again, Ronnie had kicked her chair and loosened her feet enough that she was able to knock Dolores down. In the ensuing scuffle, Dolores managed to get in a few hits, but Ronnie managed more. As Dolores lay on the floor, certain that Ronnie had broken a rib, she delivered one final, stunning blow that made Ronnie stop in her tracks for a split second before running out the door.</p><p> </p><p>“You think you’re so special? That son of a bitch that took you in helped me escape! And he paid me to take you back! Even if you go back there, no one’ll want you!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: John is not in this chapter by name, though he does appear at the very end for a brief moment. This chapter focuses entirely on Ronnie. Ronnie is still focused on Dolores’ words as she was leaving, so she doesn’t go straight home. She finds out where her mother’s ashes were spread after she died and goes to visit her. The next chapter will focus on what everyone else (John, Dean, Ben, Lisa, and Jody) was doing during this chapter. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Most folks didn’t know George’s full name, or if they did, they still knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he watched over the cemetery on the edge of town. He made sure that it stayed kept up, that it was presentable, and that whoever still hung around there had a nice place to be. He kept records of everyone who had been sent there, as much as was possible. For every John and Jane Doe, he used his expertise as a former detective to try and find out who they were. If he couldn’t, he simply gave them their own name and backstory, and talked to them so they knew they wouldn’t be alone.</p><p> </p><p>This wasn’t the type of cemetery where family members came to visit, so when the teenager came limping inside the cemetery, looking around, George immediately assumed she was here to vandalize the place. It had happened before, and George was ready. He had a starter pistol that he kept beside him, that he’d fire into the air in order to scare off intruders. If that didn’t work, he’d simply call the police and let them handle it. George was in his eighties now, and was simply too old to chase people off.</p><p> </p><p>But there was something different about this kid. She didn’t run when she spotted George, she looked relieved. She walked up to him with a slight limp, and when she got closer, he noticed that she was bleeding. Not a lot, but enough that she looked like someone had waled on her. George considered calling the police anyway, but he didn’t want to scare the kid away.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi. Do you work here?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do.” George said. “Are you lost, sweetheart?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I’m actually looking for someone. Can you help me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you looking for?”</p><p> </p><p>“My mom.” The girl said. “She died about eight years ago. I was wondering if you could help me find where she’s buried.”</p><p> </p><p>George frowned. “What’s your name, honey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Anne.”</p><p> </p><p>George could tell right away the name was fake, but if he called her on it, he was afraid the kid would leave. “I’m George. How old are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Eighteen.”</p><p> </p><p>Again, the answer came too quickly to be the truth. George guessed that she was no older than fourteen. “Honey, what do you know about this cemetery?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not much. I know my mom was buried here.”</p><p>“Sweetheart, no one’s buried here.” George said. “This is what’s called a potter’s field. The people who come here come because they don’t have any family to pay for their burial. Everyone that comes here is cremated and their ashes are spread.”</p><p> </p><p>‘Anne’ seemed devastated at George’s news. “You mean my mom’s not here?”</p><p> </p><p>“What was her name, sweetie?”</p><p> </p><p>“Lily. Lily Wells.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hang on one second.” George took out the notebook he kept with him and looked up Wells. He found it rather quickly and pointed out a large tree on the farthest end of the cemetery. “You see that big tree over there in the corner?”</p><p> </p><p>“The one with the knot at the bottom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. That one. This says here that’s where I spread your mom’s ashes. I know it’s not quite the same, but if you want to go over there and talk to her, you can.” George said. “I promise I’ll stay over here. You can have your privacy with her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you close?”</p><p> </p><p>George smiled. “That’s my house right there. It’s four thirty now. I usually close the gate at five, but you can stay as long as you need to. If it’s after five, then just come knock on my door and I’ll open the gate for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Anne smiled. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here.” George pulled a large flower out from his flowerbed. “You want to give this to your mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Anne, of course, was Ronnie. She had a feeling that the second she turned her back, the kind cemetery worker was going to go inside his house and call the police, but right now she didn’t care. Ronnie thanked George again and headed in the direction he’d pointed. She figured she had fifteen to thirty minutes or so before someone came looking for her, and she intended to use all of that time.</p><p> </p><p>It was more peaceful than she had imagined it would be. When she sat on the other side of the tree, away from George’s house and away from anyone else, she could focus on what she’d tried to think about all day. Unfortunately, her brain turned back to Dolores’ last words to her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You think you're so special? That son of a bitch that took you in helped me escape! And he paid me to take you back! Even if you go back there, no one'll want you!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Ronnie’s first instinct had been to go home. <em>Back to John’s,</em> Ronnie thought to herself. A home of her own had been a longtime dream, and Ronnie berated herself for thinking that it had actually come true for her. She was a thirteen-year-old foster kid. She was the definition of unlovable. Five homes out of twenty-seven had been close to adopting her, but they always backed out at the last minute. The reasons sounded good when they were given. She’s too needy. She’s too old. She cries too much. She scares me because she’s so quiet. I can’t keep her because I can’t protect her. For Ronnie, though, everything always led back to the truth. She didn’t want to believe Dolores. But the evidence stacked up that way.</p><p> </p><p>The only person who’d ever truly wanted her, and truly cared for her, was her mother. Taking a deep breath, Ronnie finally the conversation she’d always wanted to have.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Mommy. It’s been a long day out from school, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie heard a squirrel skittering up the tree behind her, and she watched it as she wondered what else to say.</p><p> </p><p>“I used to hate squirrels. Do you remember? I think I called them tree rats or something.” Ronnie laughed. “I think I got that from you, if I remember right.”</p><p> </p><p>She fell into another long silence, the words she’d desperately wanted to say to her mother for so long falling short. The longer she waited, the more it hurt, and the more it hurt, the harder it was for Ronnie to breathe. She knew she had to let it go, had to let out the anger and the pain and the guilt and the frustration. If she didn’t, Ronnie was sure, she’d die.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what to do, Mommy. I don’t know where to go. I feel like I’m always waiting for you to come back, and I can’t move on until you do.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie sniffed and wiped her face. She tried not to let her crying overwhelm her. It was the first time she’d felt safe to cry since she’d lived with Mona. Ronnie pulled out the picture she kept in her pocket of her mother and stared at it, trying to will her mother to appear and give her the hug she desperately wanted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry I didn’t help you that night. I’m sorry I didn’t listen and leave the house when you told me to. I’m so sorry, Mommy…ow!”</p><p> </p><p>A sharp pain coming from her hand broke Ronnie’s thoughts of her conversation with her mother. She inspected her hand and found a tiny pool of blood trickling from it. On the ground next to her was an old orange tabby cat, curled up in a ball next to her leg.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you bite me? That was mean.”</p><p> </p><p>The cat meowed loudly and poked at Ronnie leg with its paw, drawing a smile out of her. Ronnie cautiously put her hands on the cat’s belly. The cat wrapped itself around her hand as Ronnie started to scratch.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you lost too?” Ronnie asked. “You want to sit with me a while?”</p><p> </p><p>The cat curled itself into Ronnie’s lap and laid down. Ronnie immediately felt herself relaxing, even smiling at the cat. The cat was definitely a stray, with matted fur and dirt trapped inside it, but she purred deeply with contentment as Ronnie scratched and rubbed at her belly.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to be friends?”</p><p> </p><p>The answered <em>meow </em>finally relaxed Ronnie enough to lean back against the tree and focus purely on her breathing. The adrenaline that had driven her from Dolores out to the cemetery was beginning to wear off. She could feel the pain a little more sharply in her stomach now, where Dolores had kicked her in their scuffle. Ronnie was drifting off to sleep, and as she did, one of her few happy memories floated to the surface of her mind, filling her with a peace that more often than not slipped between her fingers these days.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Eight Years Earlier</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay, baby. You ready for this?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie took her backpack from Mommy and looked at the crowded halls of the elementary school. Mommies and Daddies were everywhere, dropping their kids off and giving them hugs and kisses. Most of the kids seemed okay, and some of them even seemed to be excited. But Ronnie wasn’t. She didn’t know anyone here, and she didn’t want to stay. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey. Talk to me.” Lily said. “What’s wrong?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Do I gotta go to school?” Ronnie asked. “Why can’t I stay home with you?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily knelt down in front of Ronnie and adjusted her hair one more time. “Hey. Tell me something. What do you want to be when you grow up?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ronnie thought about for a minute, then grinned. “The president.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“The president? Okay. Will let me ask you a question. How many members of Congress are there?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Huh?” Ronnie asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“How many states are there?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy, I don’t know!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, that’s why school’s important.” Lily said. “It can help you learn all the stuff you need to know for what you want to do when you’re a grown-up.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You mean I really can be president?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t see why not.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What if I change my mind and want to do somefin else? Is that okay too?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, that’s okay. But you got to go to school for it. Okay?” Lily said. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Can you stay some? Please?” Ronnie asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Lily sighed. “You should really do this yourself, baby.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Just a little bit. Please?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright. Just a little. Come on.” Lily said, smiling and kissing her cheek. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Before Lily could get back up and take Ronnie’s hand to lead her inside, Ronnie snaked both arms around her mother’s neck and squeezed. “I love you, Mommy.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too, my precious girl. I love you too.” Knowing that she wouldn’t have much more of a chance to treat Ronnie like her baby, Lily lifted her up and carried her inside. “Let’s go do this, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Mommy? I think I’ll be okay.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“You sure?” Lily asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I can do this by myself.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll take you inside and head back home. Deal?” Lily asked. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Deal.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Just remember one thing, okay? Mommy will always be with you. I’ll always love you, no matter where you are.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Love you too, Mommy.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>George stepped out onto the porch to see if he could still see the little girl that had come earlier. He finally spotted her, sleeping underneath the big tree. He’d fixed her a bowl of the soup he had on the stove, but he set it aside in favor of letting her sleep. The poor kid looked terrible. George had just gotten off the phone with the police, and found out that the kid was likely a girl that had been reported missing from Sioux Falls just a few hours earlier. George smiled to himself. She reminded him of his daughter Yvette when Yvette had been around the same age. <em>She wasn’t nearly as sad, though. At least I hope. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”</p><p> </p><p>George spotted something else that made him smile. The battered old tabby cat, who he’d named Ghost, was laying in the girls’ lap like the two of them had been together forever. George chuckled and shook his head. He had never been able to get the cat to come inside or accept food from him. <em>Guess you found a home now.</em></p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be damned.”</p><p> </p><p>A car was driving towards the cemetery. The car was beautiful. It was a Chevy, that much George knew, though he couldn’t make out very many details from this far away. An older man got out, looking around frantically. George ran to meet the man at the gate.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope so. I’m looking for my daughter. I heard she might have come this way. Her name is Ronnie Winchester. Have you seen her?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: This is the next to the last chapter. Three important people show up at the end. It took me a little while to get right, but I like the way it turned out. Stay tuned!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean we can’t go back? We have to! She has Ronnie, Jody, you know she does!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, actually, she doesn’t.” Jody said, trying her hardest to keep the angry and anxious John’s anger under control. “John, we can’t force her to tell us anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Give the two of us five minutes in there alone with him.” Dean, who had accompanied his father to the sheriff’s station, stood against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face, the universal sign he was fuming.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean….” Jody warned. She sighed and looked around, wondering how to keep the two anxious men occupied. “Look, we have every available deputy out looking for Ronnie right now. The four o’clock news ran her picture and we just have to wait…”</p><p> </p><p>The phone rang and one of the deputies summoned Jody. Jody smiled and thanked whoever had called, catching John’s attention from the other side of the room. Jody hung up the phone and turned to John.</p><p> </p><p>“I may have a lead on Ronnie.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where is she?” Dean asked.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s at the potter’s field on the edge of town.”</p><p> </p><p>“How the hell did she get all the way out there without anybody seeing her?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, John. But the guy that runs it called the local police. He said a teenage girl matching Ronnie’s description was out there looking for her where her mother was buried.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I’m going with you.”  Jody said.</p><p> </p><p>“If you come, she’ll get spooked and run away. Let me and Dean handle this…”</p><p> </p><p>“John, I have to go. I’ll hang back a little, but I have to be there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Let’s just go.” John said impatiently. He headed for the door then turned back to Dean. “Go home.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? No way, Dad!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not asking, Dean. Go home with Lisa and Ben. Keep them calm. I’ll bring Ronnie to see you guys, but I don’t want to spook her.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean groaned. “Just call me when you have her, Dad. Please. Let me know she’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will, Dean. Go on.”</p><p> </p><p>Reluctantly, Dean headed to his car and was driving away the same moment as his father. John paid no attention to Jody behind him, stepping on the accelerator and not easing up on it until he reached the gates of the cemetery. An old man was coming to meet him at the gate.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I help you?"</p><p> </p><p>"I hope so. I'm looking for my daughter. I heard she might have come this way. Her name is Ronnie Winchester. Have you seen her?"</p><p> </p><p>“If it’s the kid sleeping over there underneath that tree, then yes, I have.”</p><p> </p><p>John let out a relieved breath. Ronnie was safe. “Is she alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“She looks a little beat up, but I think she’s okay.” The old man had a bowl in one hand, and reached his free hand out to John. “I’m George.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for watching her.”</p><p> </p><p>“She said she was here looking for where her mom was buried. Why wouldn’t she know that already…?” George asked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a very long and convoluted story.” John replied. “Can I go in and check on her?”</p><p> </p><p>George had been intending to question John a little to make sure he was really Ronnie’s father and not some random creep coming to collect her for some nefarious reason. He wanted to wait until he saw cops before letting John inside, but something in John’s eyes swayed him. The man was afraid. Not afraid that he’d be caught doing something he shouldn’t do, but afraid that Ronnie was hurt. George unlatched the gate and motioned for John to come in.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s asleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay. Thank you. Thank you for keeping her safe and calling us.”</p><p> </p><p>Before George could respond, John was running across the yard towards Ronnie. He stopped a few feet away and took in her appearance. There was blood on her, but John couldn’t tell if it was hers or not. There was some ball of fur sleeping in Ronnie’s lap, but John couldn’t tell at first that it was a cat. John cautiously Ronnie’s shoulder and shook it gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, kiddo. Wake up.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie jumped and immediately shouted in pain. “OW!”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong? What is it? What’s hurting?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Ronnie spat. “Go away!”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean? I came to get you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No you didn’t. You asked her to take me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who? Your grandmother?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t act like you don’t know!” Ronnie accused. Her stomach was hurting worse, but Ronnie bit her tongue to keep from shouting again like she wanted.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetie. What did your grandmother tell you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie sniffed and shifted around. “That you asked her to take me. That you didn’t really want me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you believe her?”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie swallowed. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Think about it. You’ve been with me for the better part of a year. I know we had a rocky start, but have things really been that bad?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. It’s been good. Really good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think I’m that good an actor?” John asked, chuckling a bit, praying it would calm Ronnie down a little. “Come on, kiddo. I’m crazy about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Ronnie asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I’ve been going crazy the last few hours worrying about you.” John assured her. “And think about Dean. I haven’t seen him this happy since Ben was born.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why? Cause of me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly, kiddo. Dean lives to take care of everybody else. He told me you didn’t want him to tell me about the fight with Billy at school.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t want you to be mad.” Ronnie said, her guard starting to slip away.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. And that’s why he was so ready to cover for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did he cover for Sam?” Ronnie asked.</p><p> </p><p>John let out a full laugh at that. “Only all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie appeared genuinely confused. “I don’t get it. Why would he treat me like he did Sam? I’m not his real sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t let him hear you say that.” John said. “He was ready to tear this town apart looking for you.” <br/><br/></p><p>Ronnie grew quiet. The thought that someone out there genuinely cared for her the way that John was describing was still a foreign one to her.</p><p> </p><p>“And Ben?” John said. “He idolizes you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie smiled. “Yeah. He’s a cool kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“So are you. And Lisa is loving having another girl around to talk to. Someone to take shopping and whatever else it is girls do. She’s about to fall apart worrying for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No. No, I can’t trust it. I can’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t trust what?” John asked. “Come on, baby girl. Talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not worth it. I’m not! No one wants me. I’m just a throwaway kid.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is not true. Not true at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes it is. Stop trying to tell me it’s not.” Ronnie yelled. “The only family I’ve got left wanted to kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Dolores tried to kill you?”</p><p> </p><p>“What else did you think she was gonna do with me?” Ronnie said. “You know about my mom, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you know what she did?” Ronnie said, sniffling. “What her job was?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I do know, sweetie. But that doesn’t matter.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”</p><p> </p><p>“Honey, she did what she did to take care of you. That’s the most important thing there could be.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean…” Ronnie sniffed. “You don’t think anything less of me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because of her?” John asked, confused. “Your mom?”</p><p>“Yeah. Grandma killed her because of that. Why would you think any different?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ronnie, listen to me. Your grandmother is not well. I think that, maybe at some point in the past, she might have been a good person. I don’t know what happened, but obviously it turned her into someone that doesn’t need to be out on the streets.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just can’t trust it. I been hurt too much.” John took Ronnie’s hand, and she immediately drew back. “Don’t. Just leave me here. Nobody wants me and nobody should.”</p><p> </p><p>John sighed. “I do. I don’t know how to convince you of this, but I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?” George had made his way over. “Is everything okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I think we’re fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“I had some soup on the stove, sweetie. Are you hungry?” George asked. “You look like you haven’t eaten in a little bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite her reluctance to believe John, she looked to him for guidance. “Is it okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re hungry like he said, sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here you go.” George said. “It might be a little cold, but it should still be good. It’s my wife’s old clam chowder recipe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Ronnie said quietly. She took a sip and smiled. “It’s good.”</p><p> </p><p>“See?” John asked. “Some people are kind just to be kind. They don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you go on with your dad, sweetie?” George said. “You can come back and talk to your mom anytime you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>A loud meow made everyone look down. Ghost had woken up and was batting Ronnie’s hand for attention. Ronnie smiled and looked to John.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we take her home? Please?”</p><p> </p><p>John looked down at the scruffy cat and frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please? She’s lost just like I was. We can’t leave her here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe George can take care of her…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve tried.” George said. “She won’t come near me.”</p><p>After a long pause where John glared at George for not catching his hint, John made the mistake of looking at Ronnie’s face. Her hopeful face crushed him. It was a reflection of the face Sam had given him many times years before, which John had felt forced to crush when he denied simple pleasures in the name of keeping Sam safe.</p><p> </p><p>“The vet bills come out of your allowance.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Thanks, Daddy!”</p><p> </p><p>“George, can she stay for a little while so I can take Ronnie to the hospital?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need to…OW!” Ronnie started to stand up, then immediately sat back down when her stomach lurched.</p><p> </p><p>“You were saying?” John asked. “Come on, let me help you up.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’ll be back.” Ronnie said to Ghost. “I’ll have to think of a name for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been calling her Ghost. But you can probably think of something better.” George said.</p><p> </p><p>“What about…” Ronnie blushed and shook her head. “No. It’s stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p><br/>“Well, I was thinking about Mommy when I saw her. She hasn’t left me since then, just like my mom didn’t leave me until she had to.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s your cat, kiddo.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie smiled. “Okay. I’ll be back soon, Mommy cat. I’ll take care of you.”</p><p> </p><p>John put an arm around Ronnie’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie nodded. It was time for her to take the plunge. “Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>A quick trip to the hospital brought good news. Nothing was broken. Ronnie’s side was bruised, and would heal with rest in a few days. Ronnie went shopping with Lisa for the things she’d need for Mommy, while Dean, John, and Ben set the house up for another party for Ronnie that night. Dolores was taken back to the hospital, placed under twenty-four suicide watch and maximum security.</p><p> </p><p>Standing in the corner of the kitchen, away from and invisible to the rest of the family, were three people just as interested in the festivities as everyone else. Bobby felt strange being in his old house, but comforted that it had barely changed. Sam was surprised that he didn’t feel more jealousy at his father’s attention on Ronnie, but all he felt was contentment and happiness that his family was finally happy. Lily stood between both guys, smiling and watching her baby finally find a family.</p><p> </p><p>“So? How’d we do?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to admit, this sounded crazy when we first started, but I think it worked out okay.” Bobby said.</p><p> </p><p>“I agree.” Lily answered. “We did good, boys. We did good.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>A/N: This is the chapter I had in mind when I first started this story. Ronnie writes a book based on her experiences, with a big focus on John’s role in her life. In this chapter, she gives John the book and he reads the dedication and the preface, both of which I’ve written out here. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I <em>might</em> write out the book too. I’d probably do it as a separate story, chapter by chapter, but I haven’t completely decided yet. I don’t have any other ideas at the moment, so if anyone has any requests (Kayla, Evy, Savannah, or any other type of story), I’ll consider it. I’ve also been considering finishing some of my other stories that are incomplete (Sky Blue Winchester, The Plague of Time and Space, etc.). We’ll just have to see. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Epilogue</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Twelve Years Later</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Please welcome Veronica Winchester, who will be saying a few words in Gil’s memory.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie stood and made her way to the front. She was still in shock and wondered what she could possibly say that would be good enough for Gil. He’d died five days earlier, and Ronnie had spent the last four going over and over what to say. She’d stayed out of school, feeling unprepared for this, but she decided to do what Lisa had advised her to do. Speak from the heart.</p><p> </p><p>The small podium felt huge as she looked out into the audience. There were a few people Ronnie recognized as other kids that Gil had helped during his long tenure as a social worker. Gil’s wife had died years earlier, and Ronnie didn’t recognize any other family members. <em>Guess us kids were his family.</em></p><p> </p><p>“Um, it’s been a long week for me.” Ronnie began.</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie looked down where she had just been sitting. Her father smiled at her and nodded his head, the best encouragement she could get. The years were wearing her father down. When the two of them had first become a family, John’s hair had been raven black with a few spots of gray dotting them. Now, it was snow white and thinning out. His beard was white as well, and he’d long ago given up shaving it. Ronnie joked often that she hadn’t believed in Santa as a kid, so she’d gotten him as a dad when she was older. Ronnie took a breath and pushed on.</p><p> </p><p>Dean and Lisa were also in the audience. Dean was the typical big brother, and Lisa was one of her best friends. When Ronnie had gone on her first official date at the age of sixteen, Lisa had helped her dress for the date, finding her a dress and doing her hair and makeup that night. Dean had invited Ronnie’s date into the kitchen, along with John, to share a few ‘words’ with her date. Ronnie had pretended to be embarrassed, but she loved Dean’s response and knew that Dean would always be there for her. It had been Dean she called when her friends were drinking at a party at seventeen, Dean she called when she got caught shoplifting at fifteen, and Dean she called when she just needed to get a guy’s perspective on something and didn’t want to go to John.</p><p> </p><p>Ben was away at college. His teenage years had sent his parents and grandfather on a roller coaster ride. Ben had gone so far as to run away at age fifteen, railing against what he saw as his parents ‘unfair rules’. After a two day search for Ben, in which Ben refused to come home unless he was given ‘more freedom, Ronnie had asked to ‘speak to Ben alone’. She had only spoken a few words, choosing to let her fist do most of the talking with a swift hit to Ben’s nose.</p><p> </p><p>“You little ungrateful shit. You will never make your mother cry like that on purpose again. You have not just one, but two parents that have loved you and cared for you from day one. Some kids have <em>no one.</em> Some kids have parents that would beat the crap out of them before they’d even look at them. You’re gonna go in there, give your mom a hug, and apologize until you’re groveling if that’s what it takes. And if you don’t, then you’ll come here and live with me and your grandpa, and I’ll <em>make </em>you appreciate them. Got it?”</p><p>Much to the surprise of Lisa, Dean, and John, Ben never had any major problems again.</p><p> </p><p>For three months after she’d moved back in with John, the feeling of insecurity took over again, and she did everything she could think of to get him to kick her out. She talked back constantly. She ignored curfew. She picked fights with Ben. She refused to do her chores. Every time she did, John responded. Ronnie wrote lines, ran laps, went to bed without dinner, even got put in time out and spanked for it a few times, but before and after every single punishment was over, Ronnie was embraced and told the words she’d longed to hear someone say and mean her entire life.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie noticed her father mouthing the words <em>I love you </em>to her. It gave her what she needed and she continued on.</p><p> </p><p>“I met Gil for the first time when I was six years old. I was this skinny little kid that was scared to death of everyone. Gil came to the hospital and sat with me for three days straight. He made the doctors keep me there until I talked. He sat next to my bed and told me stupid jokes. For three days. I told him later that I only laughed to make him go away.”</p><p> </p><p>The audience laughed, and some of the former foster kids were nodding their heads in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“But seriously. I can’t say Gil was a great guy. That’s not enough for him. He was phenomenal. He never had kids of his own, but he saved so many of us. I can’t count the number of times I called him crying in the middle of the night and he just showed up. No questions, no nothing. Every time I had to move, he was right there. He’d check on me every week, even when my foster family didn’t want him to. He made sure I was fed and clothed and made sure I knew that…” Ronnie choked, and she had to take a drink of the water on the podium before she continued. “He made sure I knew that I was worth something. That somebody cared. And he didn’t give up. It’s because of him I got the best gift I’ve ever gotten. My dad.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie dared a look over to her father, who was barely containing his emotion. Ronnie told a few more short stories about her time with Gil, then dismissed herself. Gil was buried, and Ronnie followed her father home.</p><p> </p><p>There were a few pictures of Gil up in her father’s house. The one she was staring at after dinner was her college graduation photo. Ronnie had received a Bachelor’s degree in English and was an English teacher at a high school three towns away. Gil had told her many times since she graduated that she was his pride and joy. She was one of only two of his foster kids to graduate from college. Ronnie jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. John handed her a can of beer from the refrigerator.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry. You look like you could use this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” Ronnie took the can and took a sip before turning and taking a seat on the couch. “I miss him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. He loved you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I still feel guilty.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guilty? For what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I hadn’t talked to him much the last couple of years.” Ronnie explained.</p><p> </p><p>John smiled. “You have no reason to feel guilty. He was so stinkin’ proud of you he could barely stand it. He bragged on you at our poker games more than I did.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to go back to what I did in school.” Ronnie said. “At least for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Work during the week and come home for the weekends. That okay with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“You know better than to ask. Of course it’s okay.” John said. “Just don’t let that stop you from living your life, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t have a life without you or him.” Ronnie answered. “But okay. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“You going back to school Monday?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I am. I, um, have something to give you too. Stay here for a second.”</p><p> </p><p>Ronnie left and went out to her car, coming back inside with a small cardboard box in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this? A present for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. For all of us, actually.” Ronnie said. “The first thing I need to show you is this.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“First thing I need to know is this. Do you trust me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do.” John said.</p><p> </p><p>“Then I need you to sign this.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just sign it, please. I’ll show you what’s in the box if you just sign it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Give me a pen, then.” John quickly scribbled his signature on the bottom of the page where Ronnie indicated. “Alright, show me already.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Here.” Ronnie handed John a letter that was hidden in the bottom of the box.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clarkson and Jackson Publishers </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ms. Winchester, </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Upon review of your manuscript, we have approved it for publication. There are a few waivers enclosed that need to be signed by the family members mentioned in your book, but once those are signed and turned in, we will begin the process of releasing your book for fall publication. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Congratulations on joining the Clarkson and Jackson family of authors. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Yours truly, </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Arthur Clarkson</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>James Jackson</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“You…you wrote a book?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. I did.” Ronnie said.</p><p> </p><p>“And it’s being published?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. That paper you just signed? It was your waiver.”</p><p> </p><p>“Waiver?”</p><p> </p><p>“I needed it signed since I use your real name in the book. It is okay, right? It’s not too late to change your mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s it about?” John asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Pull it out and find out. That’s one of two advance copies.”</p><p>“Oh, wow. Kiddo, I’m so proud of you!” John pulled Ronnie into a tight, suffocating hug.</p><p> </p><p>“No chick flick moments. Not yet anyway. Pull it out and read the first page.”</p><p> </p><p>On the cover of the book was a picture of Ronnie. The title was <em>Gentle Toughness: a Story of Tragedy, Life, Love, Kindness, and Family</em> <em>by Veronica Winchester.</em> John stared at the cover, overwhelmed for a moment with pride, before Ronnie reached over and opened the book to the first page.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dedication</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>This book is dedicated to three people. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>First, my mom Lily. I still miss you every single day. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Second, my friend Gil. You took care of me at a time when I didn’t recognize that’s what you were doing. I love you, friend. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, to my dad. You taught me what a real parent is, and you taught me the meaning of home. Love you always, Daddy. I’ll always be your Ronnie. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Aw, kiddo. You’re making me cry again. Twice in one day is more than enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t we try for a third strike?” Ronnie asked. “Turn the page.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Preface </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I named this book for the man that would eventually become my dad. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I was a sad, angry, lonely teenager the day we first met. I had just turned thirteen. I had been forced to leave my twenty-seventh foster home. I had been in a few good homes, but most of them I wanted to forget. In those homes, I’d been yelled at, screamed at, beaten, starved, and just generally treated like trash. I didn’t know the meaning of a good parent. I was just trying to get one day to another in one relative piece. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The first time I saw John Winchester, I put on an act. I pretended to not be afraid of him, but I was terrified. He was six feet tall, sturdy, and a scary looking Marine type that could intimidate you just by looking at you. I was a five-foot-tall girl, seventy pounds soaking wet. He terrified me, but I couldn’t let him know that. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“You were afraid of me?” John asked sadly.</p><p> </p><p>“For a minute or two.” Ronnie said with a smile. “Keep reading.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Over time, my dad taught me something that I’ve never forgotten. My foster parents to that point had been one of two extremes. Either they were great but not able to keep me, like the first foster family I ever had, or they were too harsh, like the foster dad that beat me into a coma at seven years old. My dad taught me that it was possible to be both. I messed up with him. Lord, did I ever mess up with him. And while he was tough with me, correcting me every time I misbehaved, he always loved me with a fierceness that made me feel safe and secure. That feeling has never left me since. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The last page of this book contains a list of resources for anyone that needs them to call. On the chance that anyone reading this book has suffered from abuse and/or neglect, I hope this book will be a source of peace and comfort for you. Know that you are not alone, and other people do understand. If you are reading this book and are suffering through these things right now, call one of the numbers I mentioned or call 911. Please don’t suffer in silence. There is always someone out there able and willing to help.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Damn it.”</p><p> </p><p>“What, Dad? Don’t you like it?” Ronnie asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Like it? Kiddo…”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen. You saved my life. Seriously, if you hadn’t taken me in, I don’t think I would’ve made it. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get over here.” John embraced Ronnie again. “You’ve given me much more than I’ve ever given you. But thank you. This means a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on. I’m hungry. Let’s go raid Dean’s fridge for once.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not <em>that</em> sounds like a plan. Let’s go.” </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>